Lady Fair
by Lady Anarane
Summary: Andie Bryant would rather run than walk. And the only thing she loves more than her carefree lifestyle is driving the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow up a wall. JackOC. Part Two.
1. Mr Smith

**_Disclaimer:_** I do not own "Pirates of the Caribbean" or the character Jack Sparrow. I only own any original characters.

**_Author's note:_** This story is a sequel to another fan fiction I wrote titled "Fair". If you haven't read the first, I suggest in doing so for storyline purposes. However, if you'd rather not, I can't make you. But you'll be confused like a polar bear on a tropical island. Just warning you.

**Chapter One**

_**"If you love somebody, let them go. If they return, they were always yours. If they don't, they never were."  
**_**_-Anonymous_**

Oh, how I loathe big fancy parties! The people are dull, the clothing is stiff and frilly, and I hate to dance. It's obvious that I'm feeling sorry for myself, but who wouldn't? The Queen of England herself would be looking for a way to escape!

Someone walks by with a tray, and I quickly jump to grab my fifth glass of wine tonight. All I need is a bottle of brandy and I would be the happiest woman alive.

"Maybe you shouldn't drink so much in front of the company," Loyal, my older brother, suggests. But his words instantly backfire on him; if he doesn't want me drinking in front of others, I will gladly do so in private.

"Wonderful!" I exclaim. His eyes narrow, warning me to behave myself. "Excuse me," I say to a pair of my fathers friends who have been chatting my ear off for the past half hour. "But I'm in need of some fresh air." And before they have the chance to say a word, I'm on my way to the staircase.

"Emery!"

I freeze. I knew I should have taken the back stairs that only the servants use. I just knew it! But instead of running for dear life, I fake a smile and start back down the two steps I had taken.

To my displeasure, Anson Beck instantly wraps an arm about my tightly corseted waist as I approach him, and introduces me to a small man with the most primped gray mustache I have ever seen. He congratulates us on our "exciting news", and converses a bit about his business with my father, but I eventually tune him out. Something is distracting me from his rusty voice.

I feel like I'm being watched. My hazel eyes look about the room for a moment, but everyone seems to be enveloped in their own conversations, paying no attention to me. Maybe I'm just being paranoid.

When I advert my eyes back to the man before me, he smiles. "Well, I'll let you go," he says, and squeezes my hand. "It was a pleasure meeting you."

I smile. "Same to you." But as soon as he walks away, I step out of Anson's grasp. "Don't do that," I tell him sternly.

His eyes grow a little sharper than normal. "Don't do what? Don't act cordially with you?" he asks with a deep, unamused tone.

"Exactly," I reply. "From now on, there's a no touching rule." And with that, I walk down the hall, looking for another glass of wine.

"Ah, Emery, there you are!" My father's voice calls from the ballroom. "Come here a moment, my dear, there's someone I want you to meet."

I sigh to myself, but once again plaster on a fake persona and join the group at my father's side.

"Emery, this is Mr. Jonathon Smith," my father, Manning Butler says.

But as soon as I look up at the man, my jaw almost drops to the floor. There, standing before me is not a Mr. Smith, but the one and only Captain Jack Sparrow. He takes me by the hand, his skin still warm and calloused, just as I remembered it. "It's wonderful to finally meet you," the pirate says, brushing his lips to my hand in proper greeting.

"Loyal hired him a few days ago, I believe," my father concludes.

The moment I move past the shock of seeing the pirate again, I know something is up. "Is that so?" I ask, my sight never wavering. Jack's eyes beg me to play along. "Well, Mr. _Smith_, I'm sure you'll enjoy working with my brother," I say, snatching my hand away the moment I realize I'm shaking. "He's quite a dynamic character."

Jack, or _Mr. Smith_, smiles. "Indeed."

It's now that I am breathing evenly enough that I can look the pirate over. He's dressed in the nicest clothing I've ever seen him in, and as I observe the vest and jacket for a moment, I realize them to be Loyal's; Another realization that the two of them are up to something. My eyes travel up Jack's neck, where his now smooth, beadless hair is pulled back like a true gentleman's; I miss the familiar dread locks already. And lastly, although his face is unchanged from the year we've been apart, the dark lines of coal have been scrubbed away from his eyes.

Suddenly, a hand touches the small of my back from behind. I turn, frowning to see Anson, his green eyes almost flaming at the pirate.

I look at Jack, my expression anything but proud. "This is Anson Beck. . . my fiancé." I say after a moment, a tinge of sadness in my voice.

Jack does not look surprised, but I recognize the predatorial shade in his eyes as he shakes Anson's hand and introduces himself.

"Excuse me," I say, "But I need to have a word with Loyal." This time, I don't even bother with faking a smile. And as I turn away, Jack looks as thought he wants to chase after me, but alas, he doesn't.

"You'll have to excuse her, she's been flighty all night," I hear my father supply as I leave the ballroom. "She's a bit nervous about the wedding."

I find Loyal where I first left him, only he's now talking with Isabella, his wife. I walk right over to him and grab him by the elbow. "Come here," I snap, and begin pulling him back down the hall.

"What are you doing?"

I shove him, none too gently, into the kitchen, where one or two of the maids are busy preparing food and pouring more wine.

"What the hell are you up to?" I demand.

Loyal's brow creases in confusion. "What has gotten into you?"

"Jack is here, Loyal, and he's wearing your goddamn clothes, so don't you dare tell me you know nothing about this!"

The maids stumble from the room, suddenly nervous from my loud voice and choice of improper language.

"All right, all right, stop cursing. I do know he's here, because I'm the one who brought him here," my brother confesses.

For the first time in a year, I feel I'm close to tears. "Why? Are you doing this just to punish me?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "Of course I'm not punishing you. I thought this was what you wanted!"

"When have you ever cared about what I want?" I snap. "You're the reason I had to leave him in the first place!"

"I was trying to protect you, Emery." Loyal sighs and runs a hand through his dark hair. "But you're miserable. I know you are, you know you are, even father knows you are."

"Why now?" I question. "Why would you bring Jack here when I was just starting to forget, and the wedding-"

"Because I don't want you to make the mistake of marrying Anson."

"Why would it be a mistake?"

"Emery, you hate him!" Loyal replies. "You've said it to his face!"

I have to hold myself back from laughing at the memory. It's true, I do loathe Anson. I hate his emerald eyes and his deep, demanding voice. And most of all, I hate what he's capable of. I know I haven't seen the worst, or the_ true_ side of him yet.

"You know things would be different if I had a choice in the matter. I'm being forced to marry him," I explain.

Loyal places a strong hand on my shoulder. "Now you do have a choice! You can leave with Jack."

Leave with him? Leave here and start a brand new life. . . again? Can things be mended after all that was torn apart? And most of all, do I want them to? I went through a lot in order to forget him and adjust to my new, or technically old, lifestyle. And honestly, I don't think I have the strength to do it again.

"No," I say.

Loyal is floored. "What? But Emery-"

"I'm not leaving with him," I say, my mind already made up. "Tell him to go back to the _Pearl_, Loyal, I'm not going." And with that, I exit the room.

I sneak past the guests, my father, and most importantly, both Jack and Anson, and quietly make my way up the back staircase. My bedroom is on the top floor, the last room on the left at the very end of the hall.

The moment I'm inside, I close the door behind me and slide down the wall, cowardly hiding my face in my hands. I'm scared. I'm _terrified_. I've always known that love was painful, that it tore both violently and pleasantly at your heart strings, but this. . . this is unbearable.

It must not be five minutes later when the door cracks open again. I know who it is, but I'm too exhausted to even lift my head from my hands, let alone throw him out.

He doesn't say anything, but crouches down beside me and gently touches my neck. When I still don't make any movements, he pulls my hands down by my wrists. I open my eyes, but I refuse to look at him. I know if his gaze reaches mine, my resolve will mean absolutely nothing.

"Andie," he whispers the now nickname once, and a flood of memories pull at my chest.

The pirate hooks two fingers beneath my chin, forcing me to look at him. "Just get out of here, Jack," I demand.

He shakes his head. "I can't do that."

I shove him away from me, and rise to my feet. "If you care for me at all, you'll leave now."

He stands. "I'm not leavin'."

For the second time tonight, the hot sting of tears rushes to my hazel eyes. "I refuse to do this again, Jack. We went our separate ways. You have the _Pearl_ and I have-"

"A wonderful fiancé," Jack finishes for me. "So wonderful that ye apparently despise him."

"That's none of your business," I reply.

"It is now. Loyal told me everything, Andie. How unhappy you are here, how Anson treats you, what he's afraid will happen if you marry him. . . everything."

Shameful tears begin rolling down my cheeks as I inhale a shuddering breath. "It's impossible for us to be together, Jack, we both know this. And I cannot part with you again. It killed me the first time, and I won't do it another. That's why I'm telling you to go now, before it's too late."

Jack shakes his head. "I'm not leavin' without ye."

More tears are falling now. "Please, Jack, I'm begging you."

But instead, he steps foreword to pull me into his arms. I shove him away once again, turning my back and hiding my face with my hands. Somehow though, I end up crying into his chest, desperately clutching him to me, although I know I'm making a mistake.

"Shh," Jack whispers into my hair. "It's all right, love, don't cry."

I try to hold back, but everything falls in a downpour, squeezing my chest and mocking me with every sob that escapes my lips. Jack is here and everything should be right, my hopes and desires fulfilled. But nothing feels right. I can leave my family, leave my life, or I can stay and loose the man and freedom that I've always wanted and loved. It's a win/loose situation on both accounts.

The pirate murmurs into my hair, holding my shaking body close to his, rubbing my arms and back with warm, comforting hands. My body tingles with his caress, taunting me with memories of him and a desperate _want_ that I've never been able to understand.

My soft sobs and cries begin to diminish, but as I begin calming down, there's an abrupt knock on the door. Jack ignores it and tenderly wipes the tears from my eyes, pressing his lips to my wet lashes.

Another knock.

I lead Jack behind the large armoire across the room. "Stay here," I tell him.

Moving back to the door, I swing it open, satisfied as there is no proof of Jack's presence in sight. Needless to say, I'm not surprised who stands on the other side. "What?" I ask flatly.

Anson frowns. "What's wrong with you?" he asks harshly. Christ, what a gentleman.

I roll my eyes. "Be still my heart. It must be your sensitive side that I admire most about you, Anson."

His green eyes once again grow morosely dark. "You've got quite a tongue on you," he says. "And although your father allows it, I won't. You'll treat me with respect by the time I'm finished with you."

But I'm anything but shaking in my boots. "What is it that you want?"

"I've come to bring your ungrateful ass back downstairs. This is _our_ engagement party, or have you forgotten? All these people are here for us," he says.

"I'll be down in a minute," I reply.

But Anson is having none of it, and grabs me tightly by the wrist. "No, you'll come down now," he demands.

I jerk my hand back. "I thought we developed a no touching rule."

"_You_ developed it, but I never gave my consent," he replies with a smile.

I frown. "I will be down in one minute." My voice is solid, and I shut the door in his face before he can do so much as protest.

Jack steps out from behind the armoire. "Explain to me why your father is forcing you to marry that bastard?" he asks.

I sigh. "He's the son of a good friend of his. Apparently he's _chivalrous and most gentleman-like._"

The pirates gives me a small smile. "Apparently."

I turn away from him. Spending time with Jack will just make things worse. "I should be getting back downstairs before Anson comes back and drags me from the room."

I take a took in the mirror. My hair is pulled up neatly and my bust is pushed high thanks to the corset about my trim waist. My eyes, however, are slightly pink from my bit of a breakdown, but thankfully not too obvious. My complection should be back to normal soon.

I risk another glace at Jack before I slip from the room, trying to give him a reassuring smile, but it only appears as a sad lifting of my lips.

As I descend down those back stairs, I cannot help thinking about what will happen next. Will Anson finally snap? Will Jack take me away from this place, even against my will? I suppose time can only tell.

"_Tell me you love me  
__Come back and haunt me  
__Oh and I rush to the start.  
__Nobody said it was easy  
__Oh it's such a shame for us to part  
__Nobody said it was easy  
__No one ever said it would be this hard.  
__I'm going back to the start."  
_"_**The Scientist" -Coldplay**_


	2. Prevail

**Chapter Two**

**_"Indecision is like a stepchild: if he does not wash his hands, he is called dirty, if he does, he is wasting water."  
_**_**-African Proverb**_

I find Loyal and Isabella in the ballroom,socializing by themselves.Loyal has never been one to try and draw attention to himself. Although he can be outgoing, he is mostly suttle and would rather stayto himself and hiswifethan to be chatting with a large group.I walk over to them, but as soon as I do,my sister in-law, she offers me a glass of wine.

"Bella, please don't indulge her drinking habits," Loyal tells her.

Isabella frowns at him. "Well, if I were her, I'd be wanting a drink too after this mess you've gotten her into."

"Looks like you're going to be sleeping on the floor tonight," I tell my older brother before drinking down the entire glass of the sparkling liquid.

Loyal ignores my comment. "Have you been crying?"

I shift uncomfortably on my feet. "No, of course not. I don't even think I have tear ducts, for Christ's sake."

"You've spoken with Jack, haven't you?" he asks.

I sigh. "Yes, I've spoken with him. What of it?"

"Well," Loyal says, "What did you say?"

"I told him I wasn't leaving."

Isabella, with her sparking blue eyes, seems just as curious as her husband. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he wasn't going to leave without me," I reply with a sigh.

She looks completely awed. "That's so romantic!"

I frown. "It is _not_ romantic."

Suddenly Isabella smiles at something behind me. "Then why is he walking over here?"

"What?" I turn around, hoping she was both lying and telling me the truth. And sure enough, there he is, looking as handsome as ever.

Captain Jack Sparrow takes my hand, and for the second time tonight, caresses my fair skin with his lips. "Dance with me?" he asks gently, his eyes dark and soulful.

I give him a small smile. "I hate dancing, Sparrow, you know that."

He returns the gesture. "It's just one dance. What could it hurt?"

"Everything," I whisper to him.

He ignores my statement and leads me onto the dance floor, where the other dancing twosomes surround us. He brings the hand he's holding out to the height of my shoulder, and then curls his other arm securely about my waist, causing my stomach to feel empty, void of structure.

"Since when do pirates waltz?" I ask.

He smiles. "They don't."

But it's obvious that Jack can. He moves with such grace and confidence that I've never even seen a feline posses.

"Then I'll restate the question. Since when can _you_ dance?"

"Since always, love," he replies vaguely.

I know I'm tense. I'm on edge, worried and stressed out. I _never_ get stressed! Why does Jack always do this to me? He breaks down all my walls and causes me to feel more emotions than I want to posses. And without even knowing it.

"Relax," the pirate whispers in my ear with a slight chuckle.

I can feel my heart beating wildly in my chest. I tell myself to loosen up, but it's no use, considering I'm painfully aware of every breath this man takes.

"This wasn't a good idea," I tell him.

He raises a brow, but I know he understands, even despite his words. "Why do ye say that?"

I only sigh quietly in response.

After a long moment, Jack speaks. "I'm not used to seeing you in anythin' but black," he says, and twirls me around once, looking me up and down, front to back.

I catch his gaze with my own as he pulls me back to him, his body closer to mine than would be considered proper. Especially for a duchess with a waiting fiancé. "Why, Captain Sparrow, was that an inquisition, an insult, or a compliment?" I ask him.

Said pirate's lips turn up into that half smile that drives me crazy. "Ye look absolutely ravishing."

I smile, and glance innocently over his shoulder. "You clean up nicely as well, I suppose."

And although I can't see his expression, I can hear that grin in his voice. "Ye _suppose_?"

My cheek briefly brushes against his as I lean up to say, "You're the most conceited man I've ever met, Sparrow. You look great and you know it."

Jack chuckles, but says nothing.

We turn in our waltz once again, and as my hazel eyes glance toward the entry of the ballroom, I spot the one and only Anson Beck, his cold eyes glued on Jack and I, his jaw clinched tight.

"Anson's watching," I tell Jack.

He grows somewhat tense at the mentioning of my fiance's name. "I know," he says. "He's been there the entire time. The bastard watches ye like a hawk."

I nod. "He's a bit. . ."

"Possessive? Controlling?" the pirate concludes.

"Yes," I reply quietly.

"Have I mentioned how much I don't trust him?"

"No."

"I don't trust him. And if he touches ye, I'll-"

I smile. "Look who's possessive now."

Jack's hands grasp me with security. "It's different, Andie. I'm this way because. . . well, because I care about ye. He only wants ye for a bloody trophy. Somethin' to call his own." He stops, inhaling deeply, and then suddenly whispers, "Do somethin' for me?"

"Anything," I reply.

"Meet me in the courtyard at midnight."

I pull back to look at him, but just as I do, Anson interrupts. "Can I cut in?" he asks.

I frown, and my eyes silently beg Jack to deny him his request, but I understand that he has no other choice but to let my hands go and step away.

"Thank you, milady, for a wonderful evening." With that, Jack takes a slight bow, winks, and walks away, leaving me alone with the single most person in this world who I loathe with everything inside of me.

He takes a hold of my hands, and I'm not surprised when he tries to pull me closer, as I had been dancing with Jack. "I want you to stay away from him," Anson tells me darkly.

"You don't tell me who I should or shouldn't stay away from," I snap.

But Anson still continues. "I don't like the way he looks at you."

My eyes narrow at him with dislike and confusion. "How does he look at me?"

"The same way you look at him." Anson's grip on my hands tighten as the band pauses momentarily in order to play a new song. "If I find the two of you together again, I'll have him fired. Or worse," he threatens.

I freeze. "I'm not some rag doll you can control and throw around, Anson." And with that, I brush past him, leaving him to his lonesome.

88888

When the clock strikes twelve, I suddenly grow restless. I told Jack I would meet him in the courtyard, but after Anson's threat on the pirate's well being, I'm honestly afraid to. It takes me a few minutes, but I eventually decide I'll go, only to tell Jack of Anson's words and demand him to sail back to the Caribbean on the _Pearl._

I excuse myself from yet another conversation with a family associate and tell Loyal I'm going for a walk. I figure telling one person something is less suspicious than telling no one nothing at all.

The outside courtyard is dark, although the entrance is lit golden by torches lining the walls. I don't see Jack at first, which is why I'm completely surprised when an arm darts out from behind the tall bushes and various plants among the wall, and easily pulls me through them.

I find myself flush against a warm chest. "Yer late," Jack says with a grin.

"Jack," I whisper, "Anson's suspicious."

He doesn't seem worried. "Good."

I shake my head. "You don't understand," I argue, trying my best not to be distracted by the one calloused hand at my waist, or the other tracing my collarbone. "He told me if he finds us together he'll. . ."

"He'll what? Kill me?" Jack finishes.

"In so many words, yes," I reply.

The pirate captain laughs. _Laughs_!

"This isn't funny, Sparrow! If I'm responsible for anything happening to you, I'll-"

He kisses me. A delicious, toe curling kiss that goes all the way to the very ends of my hair and sets every nerve ending in my body on fire.

"He's not going to touch me. I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, savvy?"

"But-"

Jack pulls my mouth to his again, turning my knees weak and killing any form of resolve left in my body. "Ye worry too much," he whispers against my lips.

"You don't worry enough," I reply.

Suddenly, Jack goes rigid, and his face resembles something of deep concentration. I follow his gaze to the path behind the greens, and just as I had suspected, a pair of boots walks stealthily along the pavers. Anson's boots.

After a minute or so, the pair of feet disappear, and I listen to the gate open and close before I even dare take a breath.

Leaning out from the grand shrubbery for a quick moment, I make sure the coast is clear before taking Jack by the hand. "Follow me."

"_Well, neither one of us deserves the blame  
__Because opportunities moved us away  
__It's not an easy thing to learn to play  
__A game that's made for two, that's you and me  
__The rules remain a mystery."  
_"_**Absolutely Zero" -Jason Mraz**_

* * *

Well, I figured since I already have so much of this story written, why not post maybe one or two chapters a week? So, here is your second helping of Lady Fair. 

I love and appreciate everyone's feedback on the last chapter! Please, keep it coming!

EverVengeful: You demand and I comply!

A Depp Girl: Snoopy dances are the best! I do one every once and a while myself.

Terradaina: Glad you're just as excited as I am!

Anaknusan: No, you shouldn't know who Anson is from the first installment. He's a new character. And although you won't read any flashbacks, there will be more of him and his "true colors". But Andie is not considering staying in England because of Anson; I got the impression that's what you are thinking from your review. If you're confused, you might want to read a bit of the last chapter again.

AJ-Sparrow: Nope, I hate drag time. I loose interest when writers go on and on about nothing and all I'm thinking is: where's Jack!

Genevra: Haha, it's okay, go on with your psychoanalysis! I love to read what my readers are getting from the characters and the storyline. It always tells me what I'm doing right and wrong and if I'm getting the right message across.

Lyra Potter: Yes, Anson _is_ horrible! A complete asshole, if I do say so myself. I'm glad you liked the lyrics at the end; I figured I should do something new and kick it up a notch.

Supermonkey289: I'll take that as a compliment!

Istani: See, Loyal's not such a bad guy! His name is _Loyal_ after all. I did that on purpose; it's both ironic and true.

Jack'sFluzey: Aw, thank you!

LoLoMo: You're welcome! Thanks for all your kind words! I love how you see the situation between Andie and Jack, and how she was so strong but then he showed up and everything crumbled. That's exactly what I was trying to get across!

Runaway Pirate: Haha, that would be pretty awesome if Jack kidnaped her. He can kidnap me any day! I think the lyrics and quotes add emotion too; they make you think about the meaning or message of each chapter.

Dreadlockedpencil: Yes, Anson _is_ an ass, haha.

Sacred Bliss: That's a great compliment, thank you!


	3. A Lost Cause

**_Note:_** This chapter is rated **R** for **strong** adult content. If you're not into reading such smut, it's all right to skip this chapter. You won't miss anything in the actual storyline.

**Chapter Three**

"_**Sweet is the dream, divinely sweet, when absent souls in fancy meet."  
**__**-Sir Thomas More**_

I lead Jack to the other end of the courtyard, where five keys hang on five separate hooks, surrounded by vines and the moonlight hanging overhead.

I grab the fifth key and push the gate open, my heart racing. Jack follows, but never once asks where I am taking him. He trusts me, and although he's never said it aloud, I take comfort in the fact that it's apparent with the smallest of actions.

Along with our large home, my father also owns thousands of acres of land. Among those acres are five grand gardens, all closed in, but can be accessed by its own of the five keys. My father doesn't enter or care for any of them, for he pays others to do so, but Loyal once told me of my mother's love for these gardens. He said every Spring she would spend hours inside their walls, planting seeds and breathing in their sweet perfume. My father was sure to keep each garden perfect, even after her death.

My heels click quietly among the cobbles as I lead Jack to the fifth and final garden, my favorite, in order to stray away from the mansion and grant us privacy.

Unlocking the door with a confident hand, I then pull Jack inside before locking the door behind us, ensuring we are the only two who enter. I slip the key into the bodice of my dress for security.

Jack smiles at me before pressing me up against the gate, his eyes searching my own.

"I want you to promise me something," I say. "Promise me you'll leave after tonight."

"I'm not leaving, Andie," he tells me sternly.

I begin to protest, but I'm quickly silenced. Jack's lips are sweet, his taste addictive. I wrap my arms about his neck as he leans against me, pinning me between himself and the gate. The walls are much taller than either one of us, building what would seem to be a fairytale.

Without breaking the kiss, the pirate begins leading me backwards with persistent hands on my hips. His boots follow the cobblestoned path, and we kiss tenderly, seductively, as we go deeper and deeper into the garden.

With my knees weak, I pull him down into the emerald grass just off the path. He lays back, directing me above him by my waist.

Peppering kisses about his neck, my fingers then begin undoing the vest and tunic that cover his bare flesh from my ministrations. I don't remove them completely, for as soon as the last button is undone, Jack flips me onto my back, his lips catching mine is a searing kiss.

One rough hand cups my cheek, stroking the skin with sailors fingers, as the other skims down the slope of my hips. Jack gathers and lifts at the deep green skirts and folds of my gown, but just enough that one bejeweled hand can brush along a milky-white thigh he finds beneath them.

Jack's dark eyes meet mine as he starts down my frame, stopping only to place a kiss among the exaggerated swell of my bust, caused by the blasted corset that squeezes my feminine figure into perfection.

He doesn't pull my skirts up to my waist, but instead snakes beneath them, and with only the sensations of his breath on the tender flesh of my legs, I'm shivering beneath him.

The pirate sets tantalizing kisses up my thighs, nipping the tender flesh just to get a reaction from me. I tense for a short moment before releasing a quiet sigh, and my body begs for more intimate contact.

I can feel the grip of his hands, one sternly grasping my thigh, and the other brushing along my hip. His breath is excruciating as it hits my hot flesh, and I only wish I could see that intense and excited sparkle in his dark eyes as he nearly drives me mad.

Knowing what to expect, I dig my hands into the grass, taking fist fulls of the blades between my fingers for security. It's all I have to hold on to.

The moment those calloused fingers tighten on my hips, I release a breath and prepare myself for what is to come. Jack's beard scrapes my skin as he places a tender kiss upon my most intimate center, causing me to once again shiver beneath his advances.

He repeats the process, causing my legs to jerk and my spine to arch in the most scorching bliss known to woman. I fight against the urge to beg him to cease his ministrations, while yet whimpering for more.

Jack takes his time, increasing his caresses bit by bit, intending to drive me absolutely insane. I whimper and mewl in frustration, writhing as that tongue teases and laves at my flesh.

I try to move, but Jack's hands only increase their pressure on my hips, holding me down to endure every deathly skill the pirate's mouth and tongue condone.

My breathy cries begin to grow with great heights, and I clasp one palm over my mouth, attempting to silence my squalling. If anyone hears us, the guards, the guests, my fiancé. . . things will become much more difficult for the both of us.

I'm quickly losing control and Jack loves it. I know he can feel every shudder that flows through my body, can hear every sigh that escapes from between my kiss swollen lips. And he loves causing me to loose my grip as much as he does losing it himself.

When he finally allows my body and mind its much needed release, every one of my muscles begins winding down from its contortion, all though I know Jack is anything but finished with me. It's more than exciting.

My eyes are closed tight, my breath coming in short bursts as Jack crawls back up my body, his lips glistening.

I instantly reach for his belt, fighting to undo the clasp. Jack busies himself with nipping at my shoulders and neck, his hands skimming and roaming everywhere he possibly can.

"Jack," I say almost pleadingly, and one of his hands pushes mine away at his waistline. Within a moment the belt is undone, and he does his best in gathering my skirts.

My back arches once again and a gasp sounds from my lips at the feeling of having him inside me again. It's been so long that it takes my body a moment to adjust, and the pirate's eyes catch mine in an intense gaze.

Jack's movements are not slow and gentle, as I remember them sometimes being, but rough and demanding, just as I always imagined our reuniting. No, I had not gotten my hopes up about his returning, but sometimes late at night, after awakening from a dream so real I could taste the salt on his flesh, the thoughts were inescapable.

I wrap my legs tightly about his waist, causing Jack to growl loudly into my neck. My hips meet his repeatedly, and finally I allow myself to squeeze my hazel eyes shut and throw my head back in a most smoldering plight.

"Gods, Andie, I-" Jack groans in contortion, but I cut him off with a desperate kiss.

It's unfathomable, the things this man makes me feel. He's touching and tasting every part of me, getting a screaming rise from me that I never knew was possible.

The pirate secures a palm over my mouth, doing his best to screen the sighs and moans that I've given up in holding back. He buries his face in my neck in order to quiet his own, but the deep sounds only assist in driving mine further.

I drag my nails down his chest, beneath the confines of his shirt as Jack whispers huskily into my ear. He's aware that nothing drives me over the edge more than his voice.

And drives me over the edge he does. I feel it building within me as Jack's hips quicken their pace, those calloused hands holding me to him for dear life.

Stars flood behind my eyes as Jack swallows my scream, my body tingling and contracting wildly beneath him.

Such a release brings the pirate down as well, and with a long deep growl of contentment from within his chest, he collapses atop of me with one last shudder.

Neither of us moves for a long moment as we both gasp and fight for air, still feeling the delicious aftermath of our coupling.

I don't open my eyes until he rolls off me, but I follow, grasping him to me for another kiss. He grants me what I want, holding me with strong arms.

"You'll be the death of me," he whispers, tracing my cheek with his thumb.

My eyes once again slip shut at the sensation. "I'm already a lost cause."

88888

As I creep up the back stairs for the last time tonight, I cannot hide the small smile lifting my lips. It feels so good to be my old self again, to be sneaking about and breaking the rules. And most of all, I love the taste of Jack in my mouth, and the slight pain between my legs that constantly reminds me of tonight's vigorous activities.

I open my bedchamber door and slip inside, but what I find there nearly causes me to jump put of my skin.

Anson stands from his seat on the char beside the vanity. "Where have you been?" he demands.

"I went for a walk," I reply without a beat.

"A walk?" he repeats. "With whom?"

I frown, my hazel eyes glaring at him in the dark. "With no one. I went by myself, Anson."

Slowly, he begins walking toward me. "You're lying. You were with _him_."

I know exactly who he is speaking of, but I'm not about to let him know that. "Who?"

"Smith, I believe he said his name was," Anson replies. "The man you're so fond of, and him you."

My eyes narrow at him in disgust. "Are you mad? I barely even know him!"

Anson's green eyes are the darkest I've ever seen them. "You're lying!" he repeats, his voice angry and forceful. My fiancé grabs me with strong hands, digging his fingers into my upper arms with a bruising grip. "I'm only going to say this once more. If you continue to see him, I'll have him killed. Understood?"

I'm trying my hardest not to throw him off me and tear his throat out. "Understood," I say despite myself. It's not an agreement but a plea to shut up him.

He releases me with a slight shove, but it's not hard to keep my balance. I don't watch him, but instead listen as he leaves the room, slamming the door behind him.

I'm ashamed to see I'm a bit shaken after my fiance's surprising drop-in. I make my way over to the water basin to splash a bit of cold water on my face, but it doesn't help cool my flaming temper and ruined mood.

I wash up before I crawl beneath the covers of my bed, but Jack's scent still lingers on my skin. I comfort in that fact, and a small smile returns to my lips.

"_And I'm almost sure that I've been here before  
That this is not the first time I've stood in front of this door  
With an overwhelming feeling that I shouldn't go in,  
But it seems this is a battle that I never could win."  
_"_**Deadbolt" -Thrice**_

* * *

Review, please! 

Terradaina: It's not that she doesn't want to go with Jack, she does, she's just confused. She has so much to loose and gain whether she stays or goes. Of course she has more guts than Anson! She's a hardcore chick, haha. It _would_ be fun if she punched him. Actually, she does in a further chapter. But that's all I'm saying.

Dreadlockedpencil: It is a strange thought, but it's also an interesting one. I wouldn't mind dancing with a cleaned up Jack Sparrow. Actually, I wouldn't mind dancing with him even if he was covered in grime!

AJ-Sparrow: I won't update three times a week, but probably two, at least for the first twelve chapters because I already have them written. I'm glad you're enjoying the story and the characters.

Jack'sFluzey: Wow, thank you! I'm sure you can write like me, I'm not Anne Rice or anything, haha.

Supermonkey289: Your demand is my command (I can rhyme)! Well, I am a cruel heartless person, so I suppose... me.

Genevra: Well, the part where Andie was nervous about meeting Jack was because she loves him, and someone was threatening to take that away. She's confident when her own life is on the line, but when it's someone she loves, she becomes a bit nervous. And that happens to everyone. I think it makes her more real. Thanks for all the kind words!

Istani: Updated :)

SacredBliss: Haha, a sword fight _would_ be fun between Jack and Anson. We'll see what happens.

Runawaypirate: Killing you, but killing you in a good way, I hope :)

Faith: I'm glad you're enjoying the story.

A Depp Girl: Suspense is always fun!


	4. Bad Luck

**Chapter Four**

**_"It is the woman who chooses the man who will chose her."  
_**_**-Anonymous **_

I collapse on the bed, panting and sedated. Raising a hand to push the damp locks of dark hair from my face, I then look over at the man lying next to me, beads of sweat on his chest and doing his best to catch his breath as well.

I can't control it; I lean over and lick his cheek, making a quick trail with my tongue from his jaw to his temple. Jack chuckles in response and pulls me atop of him, simultaneously catching my lips with his.

He's been sneaking into my bedchamber for the past three nights, and sometimes, in situations such as these, during the day. I have tried to chase him away, even stay away from him, but alas, it was a failure. He ends up tangled in my bed sheets, deliciously bare, every goddamned time.

"I'm getting married in two days," I suddenly whisper to him.

His expression is emotionless. "I know."

I sigh. "What am I going to do, Jack?"

He doesn't reply. Instead, he pulls me to him again for a sensuous kiss before he slides me off him. "I'll be gone by tomorrow morning," he says.

_Of course_, I tell myself. _He won't be wanting to stay for the wedding. Why would he?_

I watch silently as he stands, gathering his clothing from the floor. Jack doesn't even glace back at me as he dresses, and I don't move to touch him when he sits at the edge of the bed to slip on his boots.

"Andie," he says finally. "It's your choice." And the pirate captain curls those calloused digits under my chin and kisses me gently, before slipping out the door.

I lay here, unmoving, until I hear a knock on the door twenty minutes later. I barely hear the sound, I'm so numb.

"Emery?" I hear from the other side. It's Isabella.

"One moment!" I reply, and finally pull myself out from beneath the shets. I quickly slide a silken robe over my shoulders before the door cracks open.

"The seamstress is coming up to do the fitting for your wedding gown," she says, closing the door behind her.

I quickly gather my clothing from about the room and attempt to straighten the covers on the bed.

"Jack was just here, wasn't he?" Isabella asks gently.

I nod, but say nothing.

"Then why do you look so sad?"

"He's-" I stop. "I-" Nothing seems to be coming out right.

Another knock at the door. "That'll be them," my sister-in-law says, and goes to the door. She tells the seamstress and her three assistants to wait just a moment.

I slip into my garters, corset and other under garments, and manage to tie my waist long tresses back with a ribbon. Satisfied that I look decent enough to stand for a few unbearable hours while the women work on the gown, I nod for Isabella to let them in.

"Afternoon, Miss Butler," the seamstress says as she enters, holding many layers of gold and white silk in her arms. "Ready to hem your gown?" She asks as she places the dress in my arms.

I pull it on easily, and she laces up the back. I take a look at myself in the mirror as one of her assistants begins pulling at the waist, deciding on how much to take in. The gold color of the square cut bodice is a nice contrast with my snow white skin and dark hair, and as a gaze upon the full skirts and white lace petticoats, I cannot deny that the dress is stunning.

Isabella smiles. "It looks beautiful on you. He would swallow his tongue if only he could see you now."

But despite contrary belief, I know she is speaking of the pirate captain and not my fiancé.

The seamstress chuckles at Isabella's words and directs me to climb onto the chair beside her so they can hem the skirts and terrain. "Let's allow Mr. Beck to swallow his tongue on the wedding day, shall we? 'Tis bad luck to see the bride in her dress beforehand."

"Wouldn't want that. I don't think we can afford any more bad luck," I murmur to myself.

I try to stand still as the women work on the gown, and Isabella does her best to chat with me in order to distract myself from thoughts of both Jack and Anson. It doesn't work.

An hour or three goes by before the seamstress finishes her work. I'm relieved when the dress is out of my sight.

"Your father is having associates over for dinner," Isabella tells me as I slip into another gown, knowing my father would have a fit if I didn't look my best at all times. "Loyal told me Jack will be there."

I freeze. "Anson will too, no doubt."

She nods, her expression sympathetic. "Why is it that you refuse to go with Captain Sparrow?" she asks.

"I thought it was the right thing to do, at first," I reply.

"And now?"

I sit down beside her, my thoughts weighing heavy. "Now I'm not so sure."

She touches my cheek. "Do you love Jack?"

I'm quiet for a moment. "Yes, I love him."

Isabella stands. "Then you have two choices. You can either spend the rest of your life with a man you hate, or you can spend it with the one you love."

88888

Dinner with my father's associates is awkward. Anson is doing his best to prove me his in front of Jack, and although I do my best to avoid the both of them, I can still feel Jack's gaze on my skin.

I take a sip of wine, trying to ignore Anson's hand on my thigh beneath the table. He suddenly tightens his hold and slides his fingers higher, to which I draw the line.

I peel his hand away and give him the ultimate death stare. "Don't touch me," I hiss, but quiet enough so that only he hears.

When I look away from him, my eyes catch Jack's. Needless to say, he caught on to Anson's ploy at the beginning of the night, but now he looks about ready to snap. I beg him with my eyes to stay calm.

"He doesn't look too happy, does he?" Anson whispers in my ear.

I stand, having enough of his antics. "Excuse me," I say before leaving the diningroom, my skirts swishing angrily behind me.

I retreat to the empty ballroom, trying to gather my patience before I loose them all together. I pace back and forth, breathing deeply to calm my nerves. After a minute or so, I'm surprised to hear footsteps behind me.

I turn in time for Jack's lips to crash against mine, his kiss wonton and tender.

"Are you mad?" I bite, "Anson's going to-"

Jack shakes his head. "Loyal has me covered." I sigh, and allow myself to lean against him. "That man is insufferable," he adds.

I nod. "I nearly decked him back there."

Jack smiles. "There's the Andie Bryant I know."

He's slowly leading me backwards, and when my back presses flush to the wall, I say, "We shouldn't be doing this here."

"Why not?" he asks, eying my lips. "No one will see us."

"Because Anson-"

Jack nearly growls and pulls me into a hard, demanding kiss. I'm caught off guard, but it's not long before I clutch him to me tighter and kiss him in return.

He hoists me up, and I wrap my legs tightly about his waist, my desire for him growing immensely. "Jack," I murmur when we break apart, "I want to be with you."

His eyes are the most intense I've ever seen them. "Are ye sure about that, love?"

I smile. "I've never been so sure about anything in my life."

He kisses me again, a deep sensuous kiss that makes that tingling sensation in my stomach burn. "We'll leave during the night," he says. "That way, there's less commotion."

I nod. "But the question now is, how are we going to go back in there without being suspicious?"

"Ye go back in first, considering ye left before me," Jack advises. "I'll follow in a few minutes."

I nod, and kiss him again. When I begin walking away, the pirate takes the opportunity to set a smack at my backside, to which I attempt to respond with a warning glance. It's hard to seem angry when my stomach is fluttering and my eyes are sparkling.

"Where's Smith?" Anson asks as I take my seat again.

I fake my awareness of Jack's whereabouts. "I didn't see him. I thought he was still in here."

Anson frowns and gives me a look that says: _I know what you're up to_.

I simply shrug my shoulders and take a sip of wine.

My fiancé does not say a word to Jack when he returns a few minutes later, but watches him closely with a deathly stare that sends shivers down my spine. Jack, however, does not seem effected.

By the time the others thank my father for a wonderful night, my fiancé is practically yanking me out of the room and away from prying eyes.

"Do you think I'm a fool?" he hisses.

I raise an eyebrow. "Are you asking my honest opinion?"

His fingers tighten around my arm. "If you think I'm going to take this shit from you, you have another thing coming," Anson threatens. "You're going to be my wife, Emery. I won't allow you to fuck around on me behind my back."

This is the first time I've ever heard him use such language, which I mentally note to be interesting. When he's angry he forgets his "gentleman-like" ways and begins showing his true colors.

"I'm not fucking around behind your back, Anson. You're jumping to ridiculous conclusions," I try to explain.

His fist comes at me quickly, but thankfully, my reflexes are just as fast. Anson looks surprised for a moment as I block his punch with my hand, and to his advantage, don't strike back. I know it will just backfire on me later, bastard that he is.

But this quickly leaves his state of mind. "Don't you dare speak to me like that," he bites out. "A woman always treats a man, especially her husband, with respect. Do you ever hear Isabella back talking Loyal?"

I frown, but stand my ground. "No, because Loyal treats _her_ with respect."

I notice the muscles in Anson's jaw twitch. "Don't you dare say I owe you respect, Emery. I don't owe you anything."

"You're right," I say. "You don't owe me a thing. But if you ever try that again, don't expect me to take it."

And with that, I walk away, my hips swinging with confidence, although I feel anything but.

"_Still a little bit of your taste in my mouth  
Still a little bit of you laced with my doubt  
Still a little hard to say what's going on.  
Still a little bit of your ghost, your witness  
Still a little bit of your face I haven't kissed  
You step a little closer each day  
Still I can't say what's going on."  
_"_**Cannonball" -Damien Rice**_

* * *

Everything is starting to get off the ground a bit more, especially with the next coming chapter. It's exciting.

You know, considering it's summer, I expected authors to update their stories more, but it would seem that is not the case. I think Ebony on Opportune Moment. Net is the only author who recently (or ever) updates their stories. It's really disappointing. This is why I make sure to update often, because I think if you're going to commit yourself to writing a story and posting it online, you should spend time to work on it and update it. But that's just me.

Anyways... review please! I love them.

LoLoMo: Her father likes Anson. He's the son of a friend of his. Besides, everyone knows that Andie is not the marrying type; he would probably think she was just trying to get out of the engagement. Or, that she was just starting trouble, because it's obvious that she loves to do that. Yes, I thought about all of this things beforehand, haha.

RunawayPirate: That song is my favorite by them. I actually saw Thrice live yesterday at the Warped Tour; I was waiting their entire show for them to play it, and then they played it last. I was so happy. Well, I usually write the chapter, and then I find a quote that I think is fitting for what I wrote. The lyrics are basically the same, but at time more spontaneous. I might be listening to a song, and think, "Hey! That reminds me of something I wrote the other day..." I hope that answered your question.

Terradaina: Thanks, I'll be sure to.

AJ-Sparrow: Haha, I don't think you're alone in that thought.

Anaknusan: Thank you for reading and reviewing it! It's always great to write something you love, but when other people feel the same way, it makes the entire process that much more enjoyable.

Supermonkey289: Haha, well I'm glad I sucked you into the story enough to scare you!

Jack'sFluzey: I only read one book by Nora Roberts, but I never finished it. It was pretty good, but I'm not the mushy romance type. I mean, I love romance, that much is obvious enough, but I don't like fluffy bunny stuff, you know? Haha. Which is probably why I like Jack and Andie so much; they're not the "Oh, I love you so much! Hold my hand!" type of couple.

Istani: Yes, Anson is pretty annoying, haha. Glad you enjoyed the smut in the last chapter. That was my favorite so far. I love the idea of Jack ravishing her in a garden, haha. I wish I was her!

Captain-Ammie: I'm sure everyone would enjoy that, haha.

A Depp Girl: You're right, no one likes Anson. Which is good, because I don't like him either, haha. That was my plan all along, to create a character everyone would loathe.

SacredBliss: Possibly, possibly. I have already written most of this story without much of one, but it's possible that I could fit one in. Have fun on your holiday!

Doctress: Here you go, dear!

Kaos692: Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying both this story and the last.

Unknownarmygirl: I love _you_! And no worries, I'm not planning on stopping.

Genevra: I'm glad that you never write those kind of reviews! They're boring, haha. I would rather everyone write reviews like yours because then I'm actually getting _feedback_, which is the entire point to reviewing in the first place, right?


	5. Crossing the Line

**Chapter Five**

"**_Light thinks it travels faster than anything, but it is wrong. No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it."  
-Terry Pratchett_**

It feels like forever, waiting for my bedroom door to crack open. My heart is pounding, my head buzzing. I'm sure Jack feels the same way, waiting for the opportune moment to do so. But any longer, and I don't I will be able to wait.

It's strange, this rush that I get from dangerous situations such as this. I suppose this is why I have always found some way in getting in trouble, whether it was running away from home all those years ago or being thrown in jail on numerous occasions. I love the rush that gets my blood flowing. And until Jack had came back into my life, I haven't experienced such a thing in almost a year. It makes me feel alive again, makes me feel like the true Andie Bryant.

Suddenly, a tapping noise distracts me from my reverie. I look about the room for a moment before realizing it's coming from the window, and I open it was nimble fingers. Jack is sitting out on the roof, his skin cooled from the night air and that sideways smirk lifting his mouth.

I smile. "What are you doing?"

He reaches out with two calloused fingers, tracing my jaw with a gentle but thoughtful touch. "There are guards surrounding the entire estate."

My heart jumps. "What?"

He kisses me. "No worries, darling. We'll get past them."

I pull him inside. "How did you climb up here without anyone seeing you?"

"I'm Captain Jack Sparrow!" he replies, pulling me close.

His skin may be chilled, but his mouth is heat. It spreads through my body and pools at my stomach, making my knees weak and my muscles soft. I spread my fingers across his neck and cup his cheek, selfishly bringing him closer and reminding myself that I could have this forever.

_This is it_, I tell myself as I clutch Jack's coat lapels in my fists, kissing him with all the strength I can muster. "We should leave," I tell him as he reaches for the ties of my dress.

He kisses me again, gently pushing me back onto the bed. "Fifteen minutes," he replies.

I smirk as his mouth moves down my neck, his hands up my legs. "Can't you wait?" I ask him with a laugh.

Jack shakes his head. "I'm impatient."

I nearly purr as his teeth find that particular spot behind my ear. "Mmm. . . I've noticed."

Then, suddenly, he stops. "Did you hear that?" he asks.

For a moment, we're both silent, listening intently to anything that could be disturbing the darkness. Nothing. "I don't hear anything," I tell him.

He's quiet for a moment longer, and then looks down at me, wiggling beneath him to regain his attention. He laughs as his lips find mine again, his attention once again captured.

And then, I hear it. A light, yet distant tapping of sorts. Footsteps. I break our embrace. "Someone's coming."

Jack looks towards the door, and I know he hears it too. He bolts up and is out the window only a slight second before the door is thrown open.

"You knew all along, didn't you?" Anson barges in, grabbing me roughly.

I shove him away from me. "What are you talking about?"

"Your father has just been notified that Captain Jack Sparrow has been seen around these parts. Mr. _Smith_," he concludes.

"Why would I know that?" I ask.

My fiance's hands once again dig harshly into my forearms. "You and the pirate have quite a history, I believe. If it wasn't for Loyal you would have stayed with him in the Caribbean," he explains. "So where is he?" Anson asks, searching about the room.

"He's not here, Anson," I reply.

Suddenly, he swings his arm so hard a nauseating _crack _fills my ears as it hits my cheek, and nearly knocks me off my feet. I stumble sideways but before I can regain my composure, like a gunshot, another follows immediately as his fist meets my face for a second time.

"You lying bitch!" he begins, but before he can get another word out I'm able to swing my own arm back and connect hard with his jaw, the sound just as harsh as his own.

As Anson comes at me once more, I can see Jack move quickly behind him, angry and ready to strike, but it's too late. Anson's force is so strong that I lose my balance, and as I tumble to the floor, everything goes black.

88888

I know I'm dreaming the moment I look up at the sky. It's a light grey, snow falling heavily and sticking to my eyelashes. I'm in a forest, surrounded by trees and green. It's beautiful.

Then, something brushes against me. I turn, only to see the figure of a dark haired woman retreating down the opposite end of the path. Intrigued, I ran after her, pushing through the branches and leaves. It's so cold.

I eventually find her after many moments of searching, laughing as she runs from something. Then just as sudden, something, or someone, catches her with a strong arm around the waist, pulling her against them. It's Jack.

"Why do you keep running from me?" he asks her, his voice deep and husky.

She laughs again and takes him by the hand, leading him away and deeper into the forest. I once again follow, confused and hurt that Jack was being so intimate with her. A woman other than me.

When I find them again they are kissing, pressed against each other, her back against the trunk of a tree. The snow continues to fall, dusting the deep blue of the pirate's coat with white. He's kissing her hard, his hips pressed into hers. I tell myself to look away, that it isn't real, but yet I can't take my eyes off the sight. When my eyes move back to her face, she is breathing hard and clutching his shoulders with white knuckles, his shirt between her fingers.

I close my eyes. _How could this happen? _

But when I open them again, what I see shocks me. The woman is no longer a beautiful stranger, but _me_. And then I understand. Jack gave me a choice. I could stay or leave. One or the other. Two of the same woman; Andie or Emery. Jack's returning has split me in two.

"Jack," I whisper. "Jack, don't leave me with him. I don't love him. I want _you_."

I watch as his body suddenly tenses, and he pins her roughly between himself and the tree, his face buried in her neck. She gasps, her expression twisted in pain. A deep red trickle of blood runs down her neck to her chest, staining her breasts.

I close my eyes, begging him to sop, but when I look again I am whole, one person again. Jack is pressed against me, but there's no blood. Only bliss.

We are tangled in the sheets of his bed on the _Black Pearl_, my legs wrapped about his waist and his weight pleasantly atop of me.

"Ye love to be chased," Jack says against my lips. "But you need to stop running. You can't run from me forever, Andie. I can't _chase_ you forever."

"I won't," I manage to pant as he moves against me. "I won't run."

He kisses me. He feels, he tastes so real. "Stay with me," he says.

"I will," I reply, "I'll stay."

But his eyes are dark and angry. "You're a fool."

I gaze at him, confused. "What?"

Then, I awaken. When I open my eyes, I'm lying in bed, surrounded by a sea of blankets and sheets.

"Emery?" Someone touches my cheek.

I look up to see my older brother sitting at my bedside. "Loyal," I say, "Where's Jack?"

His hand is holding mine. "Jack's gone," Loyal explains gently.

"Gone?" I try sitting up, but he presses me back down into the mattress.

"Anson, he-" Loyal stops. "Jack left, Emery. He had no other choice."

Something inside my chest aches. We were so close. . . "Is he all right?"

My brother nods. "Got away without much of a scratch. He tore Anson up pretty bad."

"What happened?" I ask, reaching up to touch the swollen bruise on my jaw.

"Apparently Anson found the two of you together. But I'm sure his story is completely different from the truth."

I frown at the thought of the lies my fiancé has cooked up. "What's his story?" I ask.

"He said Jack tried to. . . force himself on you."

I dart up in the bed. "What? Loyal, Jack would never!"

He nods. "I know, which is what I tried to tell father."

"And?"

"He said I didn't know _Smith_ very well, and that I knew nothing about him. He trusts Anson because he was there."

"But he's lying!" I exclaim.

"I'm trying my best, Emery. Just get some rest, all right?" Loyal says.

I know sleep is impossible at this point, but I lean back against the pillows anyway. "Loyal?" I ask before he closes the door behind him. "What about the wedding?"

He sighs. "It's still on."

88888

I'm not sure when or how, but I find myself again composed in sleep, dreamful visions before my eyes. The same vision repeats again and again, the ending never resolved.

_You're a fool. . ._

I awaken with a start, only to find my fiancé at my side, gazing at me with accusing eyes. I instantly bolt to a sitting position, ready to give the bastard a piece of my mind. But he's just as quick and covers my mouth with the palm of his hand before a word escapes from my lips. I can see the bruises on his jaw, and the split of his bottom lip.

"Hush," he demands. "You've put me in a very difficult position, Emery. But I'm going to speak of this once, and then we're never going to mention it ever again. You're lucky; I saved your ass by not telling your father the truth. What would he do if he knew you've soiled yourself with a pirate? No one would want to touch you!"

My jaw is set and my instincts are buzzing to attack. "Go to Hell," I hiss.

He looks at me for a moment, fury hardening his bruised features. And then suddenly he grabs me, cupping my chin with icy sharp fingers, and kisses me hard on the mouth. "The wedding will continue as planned," he explains, his face close to mine. "That pirate of yours is nothing more. And if I ever catch you with another man, if I even _suspect_. . . I assure you won't get off so easily. You won't be able to _speak_ by the time I'm finished with you."

Suddenly Loyal is standing at the door. "Everything all right?" he asks darkly, his eyes watching Anson's every move. Neither one of us had heard the door open.

Anson is as confident as ever. "Yes, everything's fine. Just going over some last minute wedding plans."

My brother comes to stand between the bed and my now standing fiance. "She needs her rest if you even want her to be _present_ at the wedding."

It's obvious that he knows something is up. "She's fine," Anson replies. "I assure you."

Loyal's posture hardens. "Leave now or I'll call for a guard."

Palms up and a sarcastic smile on his face, my fiancé chuckles as he leaves my bedchamber with long, calm strides.

"You all right?" Loyal asks with concern. "Did he-"

"No," I reply simply. "He didn't."

"_So you feel  
__Anything and everything could be  
__All that you wanted  
__Stay with me, I'm in no condition to be alone  
__And I'm on, and I'm on again  
__Brace yourself  
__With all that you have  
__Enough  
__I'm in love again  
__Brace yourself now."  
_"**Brace Yourself" -Howie Day**

* * *

This is breaking my heart!

I had a really interesting idea this morning for when the storyline really kicks off. I had other plans for the future, but I'm going to ditch what I was going to do before and go with this new hunch. Don't know where it came from, but so far, I'm adoring it! What do you all think of learning more about Andie's curse?

And a personal announcement on my part, I got my braces taken off yesterday. My teeth are so pretty! I'm uber excited!

I love my reviewers!

Istani: Haha, I know. I love being a tease! Well, in my writing, anyway.

RunawayPirate: Damien Rice is simply _amazing_! I started to play Cannonball on the guitar, but I eventually quit, haha. I am more of a piano person, and am still trying to get use to it. Guitar is a lot harder. Of course I will check out your story! Well, I hope this is not too much to ask, but could you do either do one or the other? I don't mind if you do that, but I was hoping using both would kind of make this particular story stand out, you know? Thanks so much for asking!

A Depp Girl: Of course I kept my word. I wouldn't want to let you all down, would I?

Terradaina: That dress does sound really pretty! I want one, haha. I think Anson's kind of funny in the same way too, but as you can see in this chapter, he's kind of intimidating as well. You have a Xanga? A few of my friends have one, but I'm more of a LiveJournal girl.

Anaknusan: Haha, I think so too. They're quite an intense couple. I love it.

Speak-to-the-waves: Yay! I like this pen name, by the way. Oh, believe me, the excitement hasn't even begun! I think this story will be even more exciting than the first. Or, at least I'm hoping so.

Lola: Haha, yes, Anson _is_ a huge ass! I love how everyone loathes him. You're welcome! I love writing it. And no problem, someone is bound to kick his ass even more so.

Lyra Potter: Of course! Nothing is that easy! I'm glad you like Isabella. Everyone seems to feel the same and are welcoming her with open arms. I'm planning on writing her in through the entire story, since you all and I both like her so much. Thanks for all the kind words!

Kaos692: I'm glad you caught that part at the end where she was really becoming Andie again! That was my intention, but I don't think a lot of people caught it.

Depps1andOnly: Aw, I'm glad you're liking both this story and the last. Yeah, he probably will get his ass kicked, won't he? Haha.

AJ-Sparrow: Excitement is always good to know! It makes me excited that you all are, haha.

LoLoMo: It is! I can't wait till it really gets going.

WinoForever63: When I read your pen name, I couldn't help but laugh. You're obviously a big Johnny fan. You can always expect fighting from me! I enjoy it, haha.

Dreadlockedpencil: Arranged marriages are _very_ sad, but back then, most marriages were. Yes, updating regularly does get tough at times, considering we all have lives. I'm just glad I got a good majority of this story written before I even posted the first chapter, so I can do so. I understand about writing until you're happy with it; but sometimes I have to remind myself not to be too picky :)

Genevra: No, they didn't always marry for love. In fact, it was probably very rare that they did, considering most marriages were arranged, just as Andie's is. I'm glad you're so into this story! Thanks so much for all the praise and encouragement!

Jack'sFluzey: I'm glad Andie's a kick ass girl too! Wimpy chicks get on my nerves, haha.


	6. Vindicated

**Chapter Six**

"_**Never let go of hope. One day you will see that it all has finally come together. What you have always wished for has finally come to be. You will look back and laugh at what has passed and you will ask yourself. . . How did I get through all of that?"  
**__**-Anonymous **_

"Are you nervous?" Isabella asks as she fluffs out the golden skirts of my wedding gown, making sure everything is perfect.

I told her I would rather look horrible than beautiful, that I deserved to be embarrassed in front of all of my father's and Anson's family and friends. I told her I wanted to make them angry so I wouldn't have to deal with them. But my sister-in-law wouldn't have any of it; She only sighed and told me that my bad behavior would only result in having to deal with the both of them more. She said I should look my best, for I will only do this once. I barely heard her.

"No, I'm not nervous."

"I know you're unhappy, Emery, but I'm not ready to let you throw yourself in a ditch just yet. I'll give you a day or so," she tells me with a small smile.

I take a look at myself in the mirror. My long ebony hair is pinned up and cascading with decadent curls, my skin as smooth and fair as a porcelain doll's. The silk of the gown hugs my waist and bust, emphasizing soft curves. The damned corset beneath it is threatening to suffocate me and is laced as tightly as possible, squeezing my form into societies view of perfection.

"You look like a queen," Loyal says from behind me.

I give him a small smile, but say nothing. I haven't had much to speak of the last two days. Or maybe I've had too much.

He pulls me into a hug. "I'm sorry it has to be this way," my brother whispers, "Lord knows I tried to get you out of this mess."

"I know you did," I reply gently. "And I thank you for that. If only I acted sooner. . ."

Loyal steps back to regard me once more, sighing as he looks me over again. "Promise me you won't let him throw you around."

"You know me," I say, "I don't take anyone's crap."

"Yes, and I'm glad for that," he replies before pulling me into a brotherly hug. "Good luck, Emery."

And with that he meets Isabella at the door, who gives me a smile and blows me a kiss, before he takes her by the hand and begins leading her back into the church, their legs walking at the same pace, neither one in front of the other. And as I watch my brother walk away, I notice the disappointment weighing down on his shoulders. He feels like he's failed. It makes me feel all the more guilty.

"Loyal, this isn't your fault," I tell him before he's out of hearing distance.

He turns back. "Whatever you say." And before I can argue with him more, he's through the doors and into the church.

Not a minute later, my father's footsteps echo through the room. I look up to see him standing in the doorway, smiling. "My God, you look just like your mother."

Even after passing, people still speak of my mother's kindness and beauty. Because of our rapidly different personalities people do not often compare me to my mother. She was gentle and pensive, where as I am most outlandish and outspoken. However, this is not the first, nor the hundredth time, I've been told I am the spitting image of Meredith Butler.

"Before long you'll be hearing wedding bells," he adds.

'_Thus sounding the end of my days,'_ I think.

"Are you ready?"

"Would it matter if I said no?" I bite.

"I know you are not particularly fond of Anson, or even me at the moment, Emery, but the two of you will warm up to each other soon enough," my father tells me.

Something inside of me snaps. "When? By the time you're expecting grandchildren?"

Suddenly, the organ begins playing. My father takes me by the arm, loops his with my own, and pats my hand gently. "He does care for you, Emery."

"The only man who cares for me you had chased off," I reply quietly, but with the music playing so loudly, my words are lost.

He leads me to the double doors that separate the chapel from the hallway, and I feel my heart jump into my throat. Everyone is _looking_ at me! To my surprise, I'm extremely nervous and shaky. I normally love to be the center of attention!

My father leads me down the long aisle, standing tall with his chest out in pride. I almost feel guilty for being so angry with him for promising me to Anson and being so stern about the wedding. For not listening to either me, Isabella, or Loyal about my soon-to-be-husband's demanding behavior and lying tendencies. It's strange in the way that I understand that my father wants me to live a life with a respectful family (in his and societies eyes); he's trying to take care of me. It's ironic that he's doing the exact opposite.

My father leaves me at Anson's side, and then smiles at me. I'm close to begging him to end all of this, but before I get the nerve to even open my mouth, he walks away with a mere squeeze of my hand.

Anson smiles as I approach him before the minister, and it takes all of my long practiced restraint not to tear his throat out. He takes me gently by the hand, and I have to swallow a cry of denial.

"We are gathered here in the presence of God to witness the marriage of Anson Beck and Emery Butler, to support them with our prayers, and to share their joy. Marriage is given by God. It is not to be entered upon or thought of lightly or selfishly; but responsibly. . ."

The priest begins speaking, but I tune him out. These words of love and promise mean nothing to me. Not with Anson. But with Jack? Well, there were words of loyalty when those three words were spoken last year on the _Black Pearl_. They were words that we chose for ourselves, not words that we had to abide by. With Jack and I, together or separate, the rules are a mystery.

"Anson Beck, will you take this woman to be your lawful wedded wife, to live together according to the law of God in the holy estate of marriage? Will you love her, honor and keep her, and forsaking all others to be faithful to her as long as you both shall live?" the minister asks.

Anson looks him right in the eyes and replies, "I will." _Liar!_

I want to dig my nails into his skin, scream and beat him to a bloody pulp for doing this to me. For putting on such a show and pretending to love and adore me, to take me by the hand when he knows it is not his hand that I want to hold.

The minister gives me a small smile. "Emery Butler, will you take this man to be your lawful wedded husband, to live together according to the law of God in the holy estate of marriage? Will you love him, honor and keep him, and forsaking all others to be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?"

I swallow. Anson's eyes are watching me intently, burning into my skin as he awaits my response. As they all do. My lips part and I take a breath, ready to speak. . .

The church door is thrown open, the sunlight pooling in with the sound of heavy creaking hinges. And there, standing with confidence, is none other than _the_ Captain Jack Sparrow, dressed in his normal pirate attire and looking as tempting as ever.

Anson's grip tightens on me as he barks orders to the guards inside the church, but I know his motives to keep Jack and I apart are futile.

I yank myself from Anson's grasp, not forgetting to use my fist in order to leave him something to remember me by. As soon as my hand connects with his face, I feel suddenly powered and hopeful. Jack has come back for me and everything is right in the world.

Anson stumbles back, yelling names and profanities at me, but I soon no longer hear them, for I'm running back down the aisle, shoving guards and anyone daring to stop me from my path. The entire church is in an uproar, the sound buzzing in my ears of women gasping and men gaping in shock. Even their silence is overbearing.

Jack manages to do the same, reaching out to take me by the hand. I use my other to hitch my many skirts and petticoats up as far as I can in order to save myself and Jack from tripping over them.

Said pirate leads me from the church, his fingers wrapped firmly around mine, and out into the large courtyard. There are unconscious guards and soldiers outside the door, which I know is in thanks to him.

The church buzzes loudly from behind us, and as we take off for the main road, I even hear gunshots go off through the air. Needless to say, they miss.

"This way," Jack advises, and I allow him to lead me down the paved stairs and out onto the road.

I'm surprised to see a coach waiting for us, and Chester Warhol standing beside it. When he sees us he quickly climbs into the driver's seat, and Jack helps me inside. Hearing the pounding footsteps of the soldiers close by, I pull Jack in beside me and Chester takes no time in lashing the reins and driving off, the horses hooves making more noise in my head.

It's now that I take the time to breathe. But instead of closing my eyes and willing my pounding heart to calm itself, I break out into bright, hysterical laughter.

Jack raises an eyebrow and pulls me close. "What, may I ask, is so amusing?"

I adjust myself so I am sitting in his lap, my thighs surrounding his hips. Smiling, I reply, "I just escaped my own wedding."

He smiles, and raises a hand to gingerly trace my cheek. "Aye," he says, "Ye did."

Slowly, I lean in to brush my mouth against his. Jack instantly complies and pulls me closer, kissing me with such sensuous compassion that my entire body goes weak.

"I was afraid I had lost you," I whisper against his lips.

His hand moves to cup the back of my neck with a rough palm. "I would never leave you with that bastard," Jack says, and that muscle twitches in his set jaw at the mention of Anson.

I trace his bottom lip with my thumb. "I love how you have that look in your eyes when you speak of him," I say with a mischievous grin.

"No one touches my lass like that," Jack explains, and caresses my trim, corseted waist with vindicated hands.

I hum an agreement against his mouth before kissing him again. "And I love when you get possessive," I add. My lips move from his to the slope of his neck, and further, tasting the salt on his bronzed skin.

Suddenly the door of the coach swings open, only to reveal Chester, giving us a slightly amused look. "Can't the two of you wait until we get to the _Pearl_? The army's going to catch us if we don't get a move on."

I smile as I slide out of Jack's lap and gracefully climb out of the coach, taking Chester's hand as he assists in this. "Hello, Chester."

He returns the gesture. "It's wonderful to see you, Andie," he says, but as soon as the words roll off his tongue, a gunshot sounds from down the road.

Jack grabs my hand once again and takes off towards the coves, Chester leading the way and my father's guards yelling as they chase us from behind.

"_Still I can see it coming  
__While I'm standing in the river drowning  
__This could be my chance to break out  
__This could be my chance to say goodbye.  
__And it's finally over  
__Couldn't take this town much longer  
__Being half dead isn't what I planned to be  
__Now I'm ready to be free."  
_"_**The Taste of Ink" -The Used**_

* * *

I hope this chapter wasn't too cliche. Feedback, please. 

I keep forgetting to mention, but I have a livejournal just for my writing, so if you're interested in reading a few one-shots or poetry and such by me, go to www .livejournal .com /users /ohdear(two underscores go here). Get rid of the spaces. Ff .net sucks at life and won't allow me to write out an actual http. If you have a problem bringing up the page, e-mail or message me. Or, if your bored, feel free to message me just to say hey. AIM- killersesque. YahooIM- markthexxgrave. My e-mail is of course in my profile.

I heart coffee: Thanks, hope you had fun on vacation!

Istani: Yeah, marrying Andie to Anson _is_ a pretty sickening thought. I can't imagine her with anyone but Jack. Somehow, they just fit.

Speak-to-the-waves: I agree, I like to think of Andie as the kind of "anti-damsel-in-distress", haha.

Terradaina: Damien Rice is certainly amazing. Volcano is my favorite as well; the melody and harmony together gives me chills. Haha, that idea of Andie's curse mangling Anson sounds pretty good.

Anaknusan: Of course I brought him back! I wouldn't leave Andie out on a limb. Haha, you're right, she and Jack are both too hot for their own good.

AJ-Sparrow: Sure thing!

A Depp Girl: I bet! I hated getting new wires. But I'm sure once they come off you'll have beautiful teeth!

RunawayPirate: Well, Loyal already knows about Anson and how he sucks at life, but their father is stubborn and is taking Anson's word over his because Loyal wasn't there.

Lyra Potter: Haha, yes, I know I'm mean. And I of course will be making up for scaring you all half to death, in, hmm, probably the next chapter :)

VoodooJayneSmith: Aw, thank you so much! You're incredibly sweet!

Depps1andOnly: Of course, Captain Jack is always thinking!

Winoforever63: Right! I would never leave Andie with Anson and without Jack. Never. I love her far too much.

LoLoMo: Haha, that's an interesting thought.

Dreadlockedpencil: Yep, Anson _is_ pretty assy, if I do say so myself! No, I don't think I have ever had a dream about my stories, but then again, most often I don't even remember my dreams. That's really interesting that you do, though; I bet you get a lot of great ideas.

ThePerfectFlaw: I wouldn't call that immaturity, I would call that a state of intense excitement :) And I love it!


	7. Exposure

**_Note:_** Once again this chapter is rated **R**. If you're not into reading such adult content, just read until the page break towards the middle of the chapter.

**Chapter Seven**

"_**It is the passion that is in a kiss that gives to it its sweetness; it is the affection in a kiss that sanctifies it."  
**__**-Christian Nevell Bovee **_

The moment the three of us board the pearl, an automatic feeling of safety and comfort overcomes me. Now that we're surrounded by the _Pearl_ and Jack's crew, I doubt the soldiers will ever catch us now. The excitement and emotions inside of me are nearly overwhelming.

"Andie!" I look over to see Rodney Baker pushing his way through the crew. He quickly pulls me into a friendly hug, holding me tightly. "Now that your back you can begin by putting Jack back into his place," he tells me with a grin.

Rodney appears the same, with his bright blue eyes and dazzling smile, safe for the dark facial hair lining his jaw. It gives his already handsome face an edgy appearance. He now plays and looks the part of a pirate on the infamous _Black Pearl_.

Jack Sparrow, who is standing beside me, raises an eyebrow. "Don't ye have work to do?" he asks, his voice lowering to an appealing rumble that he always uses when speaking to his crew. An outsider would take one look at his confident and secure figure, hear the deep influence in his voice, and know perfectly well that he is the captain.

Rodney shakes his head. "Only if you count telling the lass all of the things you won't."

The pirate captain's posture stiffens, that almost comical frown on his face as though Rodney had just told me one of the deepest darkest secrets he had been keeping close to his chest. "And what would those things be?" Jack asks.

"He's bitter," Rodney says to me as a matter of fact. His expression is easy going, with that small playful smile slightly lifting at his lips.

Jack glares at him. "I am not bitter."

But Rodney only nods, clearly amused by the situation. "Apparently so."

"Get out of here, ye dog!"

Rodney laughs, but does as he is told. "See?" he says to me, and then walks back across deck in order to aid in sailing the ship out of the harbor. It appears to me that the young pirate is more carefree then when I left, now willing to jest and socialize with the men around him. A year ago he seemed more to himself and spent most of his free time with me or by himself. I'm glad to see that he's finally realized he fits in and can be himself.

I take a step closer to Jack and press one palm to his flat chest, while the other hand pulls him to me by his collar, my fingers curling around the navy blue colored cloth of his coat. "Admit it," I say with a smirk, "You missed me, just as I said you would."

A slight grin tugs at his lips. "More like I missed havin' someone curl up to me at night," Jack denies, his gold teeth glinting in the warm sun.

"What about Jaden?" I ask as I see the young doctor approaching us. "I'm sure he'd love to curl up to you at night."

"Eh, he's not really me type," Jack replies, playing along.

Jaden Mertz gives me a most perturbed look, but I can see the amusement in his deep green eyes. "I don't think you'll ever lose that inevitable sense of humor of yours," he says of an hello.

I allow him to pull me into a brief hug. "Never," I reply with a smile.

With that, the doctor gives Jack a strange look and walks away to assist AnaMaria with tightening a loose sail. I can't help but notice the large holes still within the ebony fabric, adding to the ships dark, chilling appearance.

Chuckling at Jaden's response, I then turn back to glance at the quickly shrinking shore of England, my families estate and my childhood home and somewhat of a prison. My emotions are most mixed as I know I will miss Isabella, my brother, and at times, my father. And I know this must sound wrong, but I also know that sometimes, _when I'm with Jack_, they will not even cross my mind.

And as my hazel eyes graze the land, I notice that the soldiers are not even bothering to board the military ships in order to follow us. Smart men, I suppose they render it useless, for no ship of theirs will be able to catch the _Black Pearl_ once we out of these waters and sailing back to the Caribbean. Or, if that is not the situation, possibly Loyal interfered. I wonder what will happen with him and Anson. Will the truth finally be revealed to my father? There are so many questions wafting through my mind that will remained unanswered.

"Yer not regretting anythin', are ye?" A voice asks from behind me.

I turn, pulling Jack flush against me. The heat radiating from his skin is bliss, and I lean forward to bid a kiss to his jaw. "Of course not. This is what I want," I murmur against his neck.

He watches me for a moment as if confirming my statement, searching with those russet orbs for any source of doubt in my voice or apparent on my face. Satisfied with what he finds, he places a lingering kiss to my brow.

"Captain," Rodney calls most untimely from the helm, "We need you up here."

Jack sighs, but takes another long moment to look me over. "There's a trunk with some of yer things in me cabin," he explains, "If ye want to change."

I nod. "All right."

And then his eyes meet mine, and not a moment later his mouth descends swiftly upon my own. It's just a brief brush of his lips, causing a quiet sigh to sound from my throat. Jack then cups my cheek with a rough palm, his tongue tasting the warmth of my mouth for what seems as only a split second, before he turns away.

My entire body is tingling as I enter Jack's cabin, that giddy feeling consuming my insides. Sure enough, the pirate's bedchamber is the same, safe for the small chest in the corner of the room. I open it with nimble fingers, and as I left up the top, I smile to find dark skirts and provocative dresses that I haven't worn for an entire year.

Reliving many memories, I decide to take another look about the room, inhaling the wood and grim illumination. Jack's desk is still covered in maps, the bed still made but unkept. The window is slightly open, and the unlit candles surrounding the room are settled on every surface. I could swear that I've never left.

I sit on the edge of the bed, closing my hazel eyes and inhaling the day. It's not until now that I realize how tired I am; I attended my own wedding, to which I escaped, reunited with an infamous pirate, again, and ran away from the army with him and my former boss at my side. I suppose you could say that I've had quite the day.

I lay back on Jack's bed, allowing my eyes to gaze among the wood rings along the ceiling before closing them again, basking in the comfort of his scent surrounding me. And with the quiet finally in my head, I find myself drifting slowly off to sleep.

88888

I awaken to Jack's kiss, instantly concentrating on gentle caresses and rough hands grazing along tender curves and blissfully heated skin. I place my small hand on one of his larger ones as it brushes my cheek, and open my eyes to gaze into his.

He kisses me again, his tongue pushing past my lips and moving sensually against my own. If I were standing, I know my knees would have nearly collapsed, for my muscles now feel like mush. It's a mystery to me how just one man can bring me to this dreamful state with just a simple kiss.

"Jack," I whisper as we break apart.

He presses two fingers to the pressure point behind my ear, feeling the pulse of my quickening heartbeat before moving to press his lips to the flesh. When he leans back to gaze at me with those near black eyes, I am bewildered by their intensity.

"I did miss ye," he whispers huskily. "I don't think I was sober the first two weeks ye were gone. I couldn't stop thinkin' of ye. . . it nearly drove me mad. I was fightin' with meself not to turn the _Pearl_ around just so I could see ye again."

Those experienced fingers trace the slope of my hips and my head falls back as his lips brush my neck, my throat. Then his mouth meets mine again and he's working at the ties of my dress, patiently tasting my skin.

The heat from his flesh is most intoxicating as the hand cupping my cheek does not falter in slipping down to trace every part of me, with only the lace and silk of my wedding gown keeping bare skin from bare skin.

I tremble as his thumb traces my bottom lip, his touches light, just ghosting the skin. I pull him to me, my lips seeking his own, and the pirate gladly complies. I sigh as he moves atop of me, and the pleasant weight of his body against mine fills me with more security than the _Black Pearl_ or a hundred armies could ever offer.

"You make me feel so safe," I whisper as Jack butterflies tiny kisses over my lashes and cheeks. Every touch, every caress is more tender than ever before.

He brushes a bang of hair away from my cheek. "Ye are safe," he breathes.

One of his hands moves around to my back, undoing the various ribbons he finds there. Finally free of one restraint, he slowly begins pulling it off, his lips and palms exploring the flesh he reveals, little by little.

I tangle my hands in his thick hair, feeling the beads and various trinkets against my thin fingers. My heart is racing and my veins pumping with adrenaline, my lips parted slightly as I exhale a puff of air, the pirate's ministrations drawing me to close my eyes and just _feel_.

My hands slide under Jack's shirt on their accord, exploring soft skin and taut muscles. Having enough of boundaries, I remove his vest and then slide his shirt over his head, gazing upon the golden skin hidden beneath. Trailing the pads of my fingers over the double scars on his left breast, I cannot help but to lean forward and press a kiss to each mark, tasting the salt on his skin and allowing the memories to dance along my thoughts.

Jack's lips catch my own once again in a searing kiss, his fingertips moving over delicate curves as he slides the gold and white silks from my skin. I murmur his name shamelessly, the words barely audible as it slides off my parted lips, disappearing into the thick atmosphere. My hips lift from the mattress, helping him in removing the gown from my body, my muscles soft and flesh hot.

I wonder if this is what it feels like to be a real virtuous lady, to be chaste and patient, waiting for the prince to come along and marry her in a chapel, whispering promises into her ear as he lays her down on their wedding night, removing the silk from her body and kissing her flesh where no man's lips have ever been. And although I am not chaste nor virginal, I feel that way at this very moment, the rush of blood in my ears and the drunken lightness inside whenever he touches me, whenever he kisses me, as though this is the very first time.

He takes his time, slowly tossing the gown to the floor and removing my garters and other undergarments. And my mind wanders once again, wondering if Jack feels the same way, wondering if he takes some pride in gracing those tender lips over my stomach and breasts, wondering if he feels the part of the prince.

And then those rough fingers touch me inside and my thoughts are lost, my breath heavy and shallow. I gasp loudly, arching into his hand and squeezing my eyes shut. His lips are at my ear, his deep voice murmuring soft, deep words, his caresses never ceasing. My head lolls back and forth on the mattress, unable to quench my bodies thirst for what he's offering.

"Jack. . ." I mutter as a response, unable to recall anything but him and his actions, my bodies natural response and the strong pull and connection between us. A loud moan escapes my lips, filling the cabin with a sense of sensuality. "Don't stop, Jack. Please don't stop."

His mouth moves to my neck. "Shh. . . we're almost there, darling."

With every movement of Jack's hand I'm sighing and gasping for release, unable to take charge and have my way with him as I would with any other man, as I always had in the past. He knows me, knows my body and my desires so well, knows how to work me into a blissful frenzy until I'm shouting his name and boneless in his hands.

Then suddenly his caresses are gone, my body wound tightly with no sign of calming down. My eyes snap open, my lips uttering a sound of protest. Jack is watching me with something akin to wonderment and admiration, his eyes black. But before I can say a word he's kissing me again, one hand at my waist while the other quickly moves to remove his trousers. I decide to help him, my hand "accidentally" brushing his groin in my attempt.

Jack breaks the kiss, a loud growl spilling from his throat as his eyes close in his haste to keep himself together. My hand moves again to slide his pants from his hips, his fingers grasping my wrist as to keep some sort of control on my actions and himself. He tosses them across the room once they are removed completely and hovers over me, his arms holding himself up on either side of my head.

He presses a butterfly kiss gently to my bottom lip, pulling it between his lips in a slow, teasing manner. One of my hands glides over his forearm to his shoulder, my fingertips barely grazing his skin as I wrap my fingers around the back of his neck, keeping his face close as the needing to feel his hot breath on my damp flesh becomes overwhelming. Then he's inside me and my back is arching off the bed, the pressure and stretch of him enough to shove me over the edge.

The infamous pirate's hips rock foreword and back instantly, giving my body no time to adjust. It sends a chill up my spine and a fire begins low in my stomach, burning and itching until I'm sighing and gasping beneath him again.

My legs move to wrap about his waist, my muscles gripping him tighter. The groan that is murmured against my neck in addicting as Jack nuzzles my neck and shoulder, and I tighten my legs once more just to hear it again. He doesn't disappoint me.

Then without warning I have him on his back, my hands grasping his shoulders. Jack's fingers move to take a hold of my hips, keeping our rhythm at a slow pace as to make the friction between us last as long as the both of us can take.

Licking my lips, my eyes flutter closed as a wave of pleasure washes over my body, the pressure of him inside of me hitting deeper, harder then I ever imagined. I let loose a loud moan, my hips moving slower, torturing us both as the sensation becomes unbearable. And as I pull back to repeat the process, I open my eyes to find Jack watching me, gazing at me with something I've never seen in his eyes before.

"I love you," he tells me, his gaze never wavering.

If my mind wasn't so overcome with his scent and presence, I would have smiled. But before I can respond, his mouth covers mine, adding to this drunken effect he has on me, causing my mind to ale and my memory to shatter. I succumb in the illusion that there is no world around us, no other people, nothing. It's just he and I.

Jack's hands suddenly jerk my hips forward roughly and I still atop of him, breaking the kiss and my eyes falling closed as my lips part in a silent cry. Ripples of sharp, intense bliss surge through my body, my attempts to take this slow abruptly shattered.

My lids open once again and I know he must see the wild abandonment in my hazel eyes, the want and the need pooling within the deep brown and green depths. A low moan tears once again from my throat as he pins me beneath him, his movements harder and his caresses deeper.

He presses his mouth to my neck, just below my ear, his teeth scraping and nipping the flesh. I raise my hips high, causing him to slip deeper within my folds and our torsos to touch, eliciting a low rumple to tumble from between those lips.

"Andie," he says into my ear, one hand tangled in my long hair and the other tightly grasping my hip. I shiver at the sound, my skin flushed and slightly damp.

Then I find myself shivering violently at every thrust of this man's hips, his mouth hot upon my breasts and his movements quickening. Shuddering, I cry out his name, not caring if every man on the _Black Pearl_ hears my plight, and secretly, hoping they do.

One hand leaves his shoulder to press against the headboard behind me, feeling it move back and forth with every movement from the pirate above me, the back of the oaken wood hitting the wall of his cabin, over and over and over. The rhythmic sound moves with him like some sort of erotic melody, my body arching to make the sound louder until my ears are filled with a constant banging and the knowing that everyone aboard will be able to hear it as well.

And then I'm kissing him feverishly, allowing him to build me up until I'm writhing and shivering, unable to take any more of this. "Jack," I cry, "Stop. I can't, I can't anymore. . . please. . . I can't take it."

"Shh. . ."

Any modesty that I keep well hidden is suddenly gone as I desperately panting and moaning beneath him, my head falling back and forth, my back arching and curving. Jack's movement once again quicken and I know he's as close as I am, losing his control as he murmurs my name once more.

Then my vision goes blank as my body finally gives in, shuttering and trembling as I'm finally over the farthest edge, and Jack following in my wake, our muscles clenching and releasing before we fall to the mattress, my body still shivering beneath him. And when I am finally able to catch my breath, I open my eyes, finding Jack lying at my side, watching me with revere, brushing the wet strands of hair out of my face.

We're both still breathing heavy, our minds still reeling, and Jack leans his forehead against my neck, adoring the fair flesh with kisses. "Bloody hell," he manages to say, completely spent.

I'm exhausted. I can't move, can't speak, can't think except for the curses and wonderment in my head. I've never felt like this, never let myself go so much as I did with him now. He presses a gentle kiss to my lips once more, pulling me flush against him as he watches me with a small smile on his lips; pride, more like it.

I close my eyes, trying my best to recover from such intensity, but before I know it, my mind and body are both drifting, and a moment later, I'm fast asleep.

"_Hello, I've waited here for you, everlong  
__Tonight, I throw myself into and out of the red  
__Out of her head she sang  
__Come down and waste away with me, down with me  
__Slow how you wanted it to be  
__I'm out of my head, out of her head she sang  
__And I wonder when I sing along with you  
__If everything could ever feel this real forever  
__If anything could ever be this good again  
__The only thing I'll ever ask of you  
__You've got to promise not to stop when I say when."  
_"_**Everlong" -Foo Fighters**_

* * *

Holy shit... what I would give to be Andie in this chapter! 

It was taking my quite a while to write the second part to this chapter, for I guess my lusty thoughts of Jack were partially labored, but then I sat down to attempt to write this today, and it all just came out.

I'm kind of surprised how I'm becoming less and less modest about what I write in this story. The first time I wrote smut (when Andie and Jack first had sex in _Fair_) I was a bit shy, as I'm sure some of you could tell, or can now, after reading this. But it seems every time I write a new smut scene, I'm becoming less and less modest about my choice of wording and the situations between them, and let loose a bit more. And I'm extremely happy with how this came out. In my opinion this is the best sex I've ever written, haha.

Well, I'm leaving for vacation tomorrow morning and I won't be back until next Sunday, and then school starts again on Wednesday. My life is a bit busy as of late, but I will try my best to get a chapter up each week. Love you all.

AJ-Sparrow: They _are_ back! Isn't it exciting?

Speak-to-the-waves: I will, I like the lyrics at the end too. Gives the story something special.

RunawayPirate: Well, I wouldn't say Chester has something planned for Andie just of yet, but he has some information he'll be giving her in the next chapter. I think we're going to be seeing a lot more of him.

Depps1andOnly: I'm going to let you in on a little secret: you were right, that was not the last time you'll be seeing Anson. But you're also right that Jack and Andie are against him, so I wouldn't worry about anything just yet.

VooDooJayneSmith: Aw, thanks so much, dear. And yes, Jack is very thoughtful and resourceful... mmm, aren't you giddy just thinking about it?

Lyra Potter: Glad you enjoyed the last chapter, as I was a bit pessimistic about it. Some people thought it was cliche, and some didn't, but everyone's excited reactions made me feel a lot better.

Kaos692: Wow, that is the best compliment when writing a character like Jack's, when someone tells a writer they are successfully keeping him in character. Thanks, this made me smile.

Ambiguous101: More? All right, here you go, dear!

AneleTiger: Man, if Jack would have screamed "No!" in the last chapter, you would have permission to shoot me and bury me in your walls, haha. That would have really made the scene terribly and horribly cliche.

LoLoMo: _Almost_ right in the world again? Is something missing?

Lola: Believe me, I have tons and tons of mischief up my sleeve!

Dreadlockedpencil: Well, you will be seeing a bit more from said enemy, so we'll see what happens.

Sereture: Everyone loves a bit of cheese every once in a while! It's good for the soul.

Doctress: Me too! Wouldn't that be wonderful, having your very own pirate to save you from such chaos? sigh No worries, you'll be seeing more of the both of them later.

Jack'sFluzey: Glad you're so excited! I'm makes me want to write all the more.

Cataira: Of course! I love writing it, and it just adds to my love for these characters when other people enjoy them as well.


	8. Fortunes of Athena

**Chapter Eight**

"_**Mystery creates wonder and wonder is the basis of man's desire to understand."  
**__**-Neil Armstrong**_

"Mmm..." I murmur, trailing my lips up my lover's jaw and pressing myself closer to him. "Wake up, you wretch."

Captain Jack Sparrow sleeps on, his face completely at peace as I move to straddle his hips and place my palms flat upon his warm, bronzed chest. "Ja-ack," I call softly in his ear, taking a moment to bestow kisses and licks upon the skin.

He grumbles something incoherent in his sleep, pulling me closer to him unconsciously. Grinning, I sit up, watching for his breathing to return to a smooth, even pattern. The moment he does so, I call out loudly, "Lucifer, someone's burned all the rum!"

Jack's eyes instantly snap open, the startled expression on his face priceless. He darts up, nearly knocking me out of his lap, but manages to catch me before I do so. Bright laughter consumes me and then the room, my eyes sparkling with humor and radiance that I had feared I had lost.

Said pirate raises an eyebrow, circling his arms around my waist as he watches me laugh and smile at his love for rum and my love for teasing him. Then that sideward smirk claims his lips and he shakes his head at me, his eyes shining from sleep. "That's not funny, Andie," he scolds sleepily, but his expression is disobeying his words.

I place a kiss on his lips, still laughing, then sit back once again to regard him. "Then why are you grinning at me, you fool?"

With one hand he reaches out to run his calloused digits through my hair, then sliding the pads down my cheek to take my chin between his thumb and fore fingers. "I've never seen ye smile like that," he tells me thoughtfully.

"Like what?" I ask.

His other hand slides up my back, over the tattooed wings on my shoulder blades, and then back down again, caressing the skin softly. "Like yer completely content," Jack replies, moving to trace my bottom lip with his thumb. "Darling, you can bring a man to his knees when you smile at him like that."

If I was more of a lady, I would have blushed and thanked him, but instead I just lean forward to press my lips gently to his, just a simple peck to show my affection. "Maybe I should do it more often, then," I supply, my voice slightly husky.

He hums in agreement. "Indeed. In fact, if ye do, I'll be forced to lay every bit of me plunder at your feet."

I laugh, but it quickly dissolves into a sigh as my eyes fall shut, my entire body tingling as his hand does a little free roaming of my chest. "Mmm, it's not your plunder that I want," I tell him breathlessly.

His hand moves to the side as it's quickly replaced with his mouth. "Is that so?" he inquires, sliding me closer to him as my legs fit so perfectly about his hips. I tangle my fingers in his hair, opening my hazel eyes again.

And then he's flat on his back, my body over his, with my elbows holding me up at either side of his head and my ebony hair frames our faces like a silky black curtain. Paying no heed to be gentle, I nip his jaw hard with the ivory of my teeth and then lick his cheek like a great cat, nearly purring as he gathers me closer to him.

Jack chuckles, rubbing the coarse hair of his cheek along my shoulder and then leaning up to do the same, laving his tongue over my skin oh so slowly, deliciously, that I can't suppress the cold chill that creeps over my body.

"AnaMaria will not be happy with you in the morning," I tell him with a grin, knowing she has been at the _Pearl_'s helm for many hours now, ever since we boarded the ship.

He kisses me. "Let her be angry."

88888

Jack is still asleep when I wake this morning, his face innocent and his flesh blissfully warm. I watch him for a long moment, a small gentle smile pulling at my lips before I press a kiss to his brow and quietly pull myself from his arms and dress, in need of some fresh water to quench my thirst.

I slip from the door, being sure not to wake the slumbering pirate close by. When he doesn't move or change his even breathing pattern at the hushed noises, I congratulate myself on a job well done.

I find Chester in the galley, alone and reading a thick, musty book at the table. "Morning," I greet him.

"Good morning," he replies. "Sleep well?"

I smile. "Wonderfully."

He laughs, an honest rumble from his chest. "I assume Jack took a large part in that."

"Well, he took part in keeping me awake, if that's what you mean," I reply with a chuckle.

Chester watches as I pull out the chair beside him and take a seat. "Things were different when you were gone," he tells me. "Jack was different."

"How so?"

"He was. . . to himself more. He wouldn't speak of you, and no one would dare mention your name around him. AnaMaria let it slip once that you had left him bitter, and Rodney said Jack tensed up so bad he thought he would strike her," my former boss explains.

My brow furrows. I know that I have been accused of causing trouble in the past, mostly of starting late night bar fights and being thrown in and creeping out of many jail cells, but something like this? Could my leaving effect someone that much? Something this personal and emotional? Somehow, I doubt it.

"He seems normal enough to me. Are you sure he wasn't angry about something else?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "He was angry because he let you get away."

"Oh," I reply after a moment. What am I supposed to say to something like that?

Then, Chester suddenly smiles. "But things are different now. You're back, and the both of you are happy, correct?

I nod, my body still pleasantly contented and warm from the aftereffects of what Jack and I had shared during the night and evening. "Very much so."

"There's so much to tell you."

I pull my feet up in the chair so I'm sitting cross-legged. "Then speak up, mate!"

"Well, first of all, I found new information on this curse of yours," Chester tells me.

Ah, the curse. Or, the Signs of Athena, as we often refer to it as. Along with a strange connection to everything else considered bad and unholy, such as black cats and snakes, it is also not uncommon for the people around me to feel the effects of the aura and energy from said curse. In example, my first few weeks aboard the _Pearl_ the first time had left the crew ill and delirious.

But there is more to this curse than bad luck. I am also rewarded with many strange attributes as of a quick healing process and sharp senses, along many more. With all the bad comes some good, Chester used to tell me.

And although I could use this power for good, and well, evil, I am careful to keep the two balanced. Frankly I am too mischievous to let the good overrun the streets and too heartfelt to allow the bad to do so. And well, because it's my job. Or at least it _was_, anyway.

"Apparently there is some sort of ritual to open Athena's Temple," Chester complies.

"Wait. . . what?" I respond, completely dumfounded.

"I was in Greece about a month ago when I overheard two men talking about a mysterious curse and the Blood of Athena. A ritual," he explains, and holds up the book he was reading beforehand. "It says here that the one with her curse is the key to the fortunes within the temple."

This curse is connected to Athena, the Greek Goddess of War, because of the strange connections with the good and bad that I mentioned previously. I was born with the same calling as she; to keep the natural balance. . .well, balanced out.

"So, that's good?" I ask.

Chester shakes his head. "Well, I'm not so sure, but thus far, I don't believe you will live through the ritual."

"Oh," I reply. "Well, that's bad."

He chuckles. "Yes, I'd say so. But this could cause problems if people know about the curse. Who all on the ship know?"

I think about this for a moment. "Jack. And Jaden, I think. Maybe Rodney. But that's it. The rest think everything is just a coincidence."

Chester nods. "Be sure to tell Jack to keep it to himself. I'll tell the other two. We want to keep this close to our chests."

I nod. "Done."

He smiles. "It's good to have you back, Andie."

88888

When I open the door to the captain quarters, I'm surprised to find said captain sitting up in bed, just now waking with the sheet pooled in his lap.

"Where'd ye run off to?" he asks me, his voice deep and gruff from sleep.

I slide into his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck to welcome him with a good morning kiss. "I was talking with Chester," I say.

Jack holds me close by my waist, and kisses me again. "He putting ye to work already?" he inquires.

"In a way," I reply. "Apparently he overheard a conversation about my curse being the key to open a temple in Greece." I was never really one to break news to someone lightly. Anything but blunt is not my way.

Jack's row furrows. "What?"

I shrug. "He doesn't know much about it yet. But until then, he said we should keep the matter of the curse between us. In case it should lead to other problems."

He nods in understanding. "Ye never cease to amaze me, love. Just when I think I got ye figured out, ye go and surprise me again," his mouth barely brushes mine, teasing me. "Unpredictable."

I smile. "And you love it."

"Do I, now?" the pirate asks with a raised brow, that golden grin lighting his handsome face.

I nod. "I keep you on your toes, always guessing. You love the challenge."

He chuckles against my neck, adoring the skin with kisses. "Perhaps yer right."

But the truth is, I know I'm right. I know him more than he would most likely want me to. He has always kept many things close to his vest, as have I. We break down one another's walls whether we like it or not. It both intrigues and frightens me.

"_Situation number one  
It's the one that's just begun  
But evidently it's too late.  
Situation number two  
It's the only chance for you  
It's controlled by denizens of hate.  
Situation number three  
It's the one that no one sees  
It's all too often dismissed as fate.  
Situation number four  
It's the one that left you wanting more  
It tantalized you with it's bait."  
_**"Situations" -Jack Johnson**

* * *

Reviews are wonderful, as always! 

Just to let you all know, although I appreciate everyone's feedback, I am only going to start replying to people's reviews who have asked a question and/or the ones I have a reply to; I'm sorry about this but there are so many of you (which is great! Thanks!) and I have been running low on time.

MyChaoticImages: I love that you love the song lyrics at the end of every chapter. I thought adding a personal touch was something that would make this story different and more interesting, and the fact that it has made it more personal for you as well is great!

Dreadlockedpencil: I can't really imagine Jack in a velvet suit or with an afro, haha. But I have to admit, I love your interesting subconscious.

Terradaina: Wondering is always good, but I can't give anything away! You'll just have to keep reading to find out! I live in the US, in Kentucky. It's about twenty minutes from Cincinnati, Ohio if you know where that is.

VooDooJayneSmith: Hmm... I choose Jack _with_ cookies, haha. Of course I listen to my reviews, not only do I love you all but I care about your opinions and such as well. Thanks for being so excited and giddy in your last review, it was most amusing!

ThePerfectFlaw: Well, in the third chapter when Jack and Andie are in the garden there is a bit of oral in there, although it wasn't extremely detailed. Oral sex is a big thing in writing because there is a fine line between crude and sensuous, but I will most defiantly give it another shot. Rodney had a playmate? Since when? Haha. Well, you're right, Rodney _does_ need a playmate... which is why there is mention of one in an upcoming chapter!


	9. No Cheating

**Chapter Nine**

"_**Advance, and never halt, for advancing is perfection. Advance and do not fear the thorns in the path, for they draw only corrupt blood."  
**__**-Kahil Gibran**_

It's only half past nine and the crew of the _Black Pearl_ is far beyond half past drunk. In fact, Jack and I are almost there ourselves, despite said pirate's words of denial. But I will admit, I've seen no one hold their rum like Jack; if it were anyone else, they would be far gone by now, passed out on the floor or doing something more than foolish.

"I need to stop before I start dancing on tabletops," I say, pushing away what would be my second bottle of rum. Needless to say, my body is much smaller and less tolerant to such liquids.

But Jack slides the bottle back in front of me. "No, no, love, don't stop. That doesn't sound like a bad thing!" he argues.

"It is if I fall off the table," I supply with an honest smile.

"I won't let ye fall. Why don't ye climb up there and I'll show ye," he says.

I laugh and halfheartedly swat his hands away from my waist. "I don't think so, Jack."

And although I had planned not to, I do pick up the bottle again, taking a drink with my eyes still watching the quirky pirate next to me. "You just don't want to be the only one with a headache in the morning," I accuse him.

Jack grins. "We won't be the only ones with headaches, darling, I assure ye."

Quirking an amused eyebrow, I gaze around at Jack's crew. Some are playing instruments, making slightly offbeat music while others are dancing or losing their savings in a game of cards. All in all, this is a party I am glad has been thrown in my name.

I hear something behind me and turn to see Rodney Baker approaching our table, not any more sober or far gone than ourselves. "May I?" he asks, speaking to Jack but nodding at me.

Jack agrees, but knowing exactly where this is going, I do not. "I don't dance," I deny him.

"Yes, she does," the captain of the _Black Pearl_ argues.

I frown at him. "No, I don't."

Jack laughs and nods at his crew member, ignoring my condemn. "Yes, she does."

Rodney smiles warmly at me. "Come on, Andie. Please?"

Hesitating, I sigh in defeat and place my hand in his open one. "Just one dance." Then, I look over at Jack, giving him a death glare although I know my eyes are sparkling. "I'll deal with you later," I threaten.

He grins and presses a kiss to my other hand. "I can't wait."

Silently, I allow Rodney to lead me to the other side of the room. "You enjoy being difficult, do you not?" my friend asks.

I laugh. "Very much so."

Then, he wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me closer, slightly moving to the fast paced music. "We have so much to discuss. So much I want to ask and so much to tell you."

Nodding, I reply, "I hear a lot of has happened since I've been gone."

"You don't know the half of it," Rodney replies. "But we have time for that later. Now tell me. . . what happened between you and Jack a day ago? He left, determined to get you out of that place, and then returned a few days later, refusing to deal with anyone for an entire night. But then the next morning he had plans to go after you once again. The curiosity is killing me!"

I look over Rodney's shoulder at the pirate captain seated next to his crew, playing a heated game of cards. He slaps down a queen and then looks up, winking at me, pleased to find my eyes on him.

"Andie?" Rodney asks.

"I was to be married," I explain gently.

"What?" he replies, completely flabbergasted.

I gaze up at him with warm hazel eyes. "My father promised me to a man who I had not met previously. It's the way things works there, Rodney."

But my friend looks most confused. "Jack was gone for an entire week," he supplies. "Why did it take you so long to escape?"

I sigh. "I. . . I couldn't make up my mind."

He quiet for a long, tensing moment. "You loved him, then?"

"Who?"

"Your fiance."

I have to hold myself back from gagging. Did I love Anson? If I had, everything would have, and would still be, a lot easier. "No, I sure as hell didn't."

Rodney chuckles gently, spinning me out before pulling me back in. "Then why was the decision so tough?"

I hesitate for a moment, but eventually I spit it out. "Being with Jack, Rodney, is somewhat difficult for me, as is being with me is for him. Not only because of our lifestyles, but because of who we are."

"I don't understand," my friend says.

"I. . . I fell in love," I reply in a whisper. "And it was easier then I ever imagined."

Rodney gives me a slight smile. "It scares you, doesn't it? _He_ scares you."

I nod, a somber expression on my face. "But when I'm with him. . . I'm not scared at all. Do you think me strange?"

"No," he says. "You're making perfect sense, in a way. You love Jack, but it's the thought of loving Jack that frightens you. The thought of squaring with it."

I can't help but smile. "When did you get so insightful?"

Rodney shrugs. "Perhaps the same time you become so soft."

"Hey!" I warn him, "Watch it!"

88888

I have learned many things tonight, but what I find most useful and amusing is the fact that the captain of the _Black Pearl_ cannot keep his hands to himself or play a fair game of cards.

He's not yet aware of my knowing, but as I take a look at the small bundle of cards in my hand, I can see him hide a card, a King, in fact, in his vest out of the corner of my eye. His movements are so quick and graceful that no one else has noticed his pirate-like tactics.

Jaden Mertz, the doctor on the ship, sighs and tosses his cards onto the small pile in the center of the galley table. "I fold," he announces.

"Have ye ever won a game in yer entire life?" AnaMaria asks him.

He frowns. "Of course I have! . . .I just can't seem to recall any particular time, at the moment."

I laugh, and add two more shillings to the money pot. I feel Jack's eyes on me as I do this, and look over at him with a raised brow. Sure enough, he had been trying to take a peek at my cards, but disguises it by lowering his russet eyes to my chest and tightening his fingers on my thigh.

When he raises his eyes back to mine, I give him an amused look and mouth 'stop cheating' to let him in on my awareness without filling everyone else in as well. Jack gives me a most innocent look, but I of all people know this fiend is anything but impeccable.

I return to the game with a small smile, trying my best to ignore the sensation of Jack's fingers on my thigh, kneading and caressing the flesh. He's constantly in contact with me when we're together, but the light touches are for the most part brief and not noteworthy to anyone around us. But now, thanks to all the rum in the pirate's system, his caresses are more blunt, more intimate, as though he's only half aware of the others around us.

Then I feel Jack's hand gathering up my skirts beneath the tabletop, his skin warm. My stomach automatically flutters and a tight burning sensation pools throughout my body. _Concentrate_, I tell myself. I can't let a little rum -all right, a lot of rum- and some skin on skin contact bring my guard down. And most importantly, leave me a shivering heap open to his advances. No, I like to give more of a fight than that.

But needless to say, it's hard to do when those rough digits are brushing dangerously close to the apex of my thighs, tempting and teasing me. I clear my throat in order to screen the sigh that's threatening to break through, my throat feeling incredibly tight. My instincts tell me to stop him, for this is not the right place or time to be pawing at me in such a way. But then I realize. . . this could work to my advantage.

Nothing that everyone around us are in their own conversations, I lean over close to the pirate, trying my best to hide a grin as I release an almost silent moan against his neck. "Jack. . ." I whisper in his ear, and slide my hand down his skin, my fingertips brushing along his worn grey vest.

". . .Thanks." And with that, I slam the King I just snatched from the inside of the pirate's clothing down on the table with my other cards. "Full house," I announce proudly.

Jack is most shocked and surprised as his hand moves back down my leg. "What a second, love. . ."

I laugh and gather up my pile of winnings. "No cheating, pirate, or it comes back to bite you in the arse."

"_Say the first thing that comes into your head when you see me  
__If it looks like it works and it feels like it works, then it works  
__With the sun on your face  
__All these worries will soon disappear  
__Just follow me now."  
_"_**Wow" -Snow Patrol** _

* * *

Just a somewhat feel-good chapter before the storyline with Andie's curse really starts picking up. Which should be happening in the next chapter, by the way. I don't really like this chapter at all, but I felt like this story wouldn't feel right without it, for some reason.

Thanks to all the reviewers, but unfortunately I only have time to respond to those who asked questions and such.

LoLoMo: Yes, I did say there were others like Andie, and yes they could also be the key to Athena's temple. You'll hear more about this in the near future.

Genevra: Haha, I have no idea where I come up with these things! They just come to me. I wish I was Andie too! She has so much good and bad luck at the time. The upside is her life would never get dull (especially with having Jack Sparrow at her side). Very good predictions... but you'll just have to keep reading to see if they come true or not!

VooDooJayneSmith: Yes, we've been getting a lot of rain here, actually. Yesterday and the day before it rained practically all day, which pissed me off because I have to walk to and from my school's back parking lot and I got soaked. I'm glad you miss Will and Elizabeth because I've been missing them too hint hint.


	10. Good Enough

**Chapter Ten**

"_**Ah, how good is feels! The hand of an old friend."  
**__**-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow**_

Our first stop in the Caribbean is Tortuga. Jack insists that we're in need of supplies, but I know that by 'supplies' he means rum.

"I don't understand why you like this place so much," I confess, stepping over a dormant man who reeks of whiskey.

"Because, love," Jack replies, "This island is every man's dream!"

"That's pathetic, Sparrow. Doesn't the male species have any other dreams than stale whiskey and filthy prostitutes?"

Rodney laughs from beside me. "Sure we do. But said dreams outweigh all the others."

I roll my eyes but say nothing more concerning the matter, but that's mostly because we have to push our way through a drunken brawl in the center of the street just to get to the entrance of the Faithful Bride tavern.

"I'll get the drinks," Jack says once we get inside, and Rodney leads me over to a table in the corner of the room.

"You're in luck, Andie," he tells me as I take a seat beside him. "You can be shagged on multiple tables in here!"

So obviously Jack and I haven't lived down our incident in Mercy and Emmet's kitchen a year ago. "Don't make me kill you in front of all these people, Rodney," I warn him with a scowl.

He laughs and reaches to grab the mug of rum that Jack slides before him. "Thanks," I say as said pirate hands me a glass of brandy and takes a seat to my left.

"Looks like you have an admirer," Jack says with a chuckle and nods towards a table behind me.

Frowning, I turn to see a group of sailors having a drink, half of them engrossed in a conversation, and the other half looking most interested in me, or rather, the way I look. Sometimes men completely disgust me. I roll my eyes and turn back to face the captain of the _Black Pearl_. "Actually, I think they're looking at you," I tell him.

"To tell you the truth," Rodney interjects, and points to something across the tavern, "I think there's someone else who has their eye on Jack."

And sure enough, not but a moment later said strumpet walks over, her golden hair hanging down in curls and bust pushed high. I raise an eyebrow as she slides herself into Jack's lap, watching in disgust as she wraps her thin arms about his neck and leans down to whisper something in his ear. Jack chuckles somewhat uncomfortably at her words and moves to unwrap her grip from around his neck, but she only presses herself closer.

"Christ," I bite out, "He's not interested, all right?"

The wench leans back to glare at me with dull, lifeless grey eyes. "Pardon me?" she asks in a heavy French accent.

"He's taken for the night," I continue, my voice completely calm. "Bugger off."

She scoffs, her attitude most aggravating and obnoxious. "Taken by _you_?" she laughs. But as she glances back down at Jack, he's pulling her arms away from him, and her amusement completely dies. "You've got to be kidding me," she states, looking over me with a disapproving eye.

"Not at all, love," Jack presents.

"What are you, in mourning? Isn't that disrespectful to be in a place like this with a man like him when you're supposed to be secluded from society?" the woman asks of my black clothing as Jack slides her from his lap.

"No, I'm not in mourning," I reply simply, bored of the situation.

"Oh, so you _choose_ to look like one of the deceased?" she remarks coldly. "Trust me, dear, you need a bit of color."

"You're giving me beauty tips?" I ask sarcastically.

"Well," she says, looking me over one last time, "You need them."

I instantly launch myself at her, ready to teach this broad a lesson, but before I can even touch her, Jack quickly grabs me and pulls me down, settling me in his lap. The whore walks away without a scratch, swinging her hips and grinning with mockery in her stance.

"What did you do that for?" I demand from Jack, simultaneously smacking him hard on the shoulder.

"She's just jealous, Andie," he tells me, the amusement clear in his voice.

"Of what, my _lack of color_, or my _dead_ appearance?" I question with sarcasm once again.

"Both," he replies, and laughs at the hateful look I give him. "I'm only kidding, darling. She's jealous of yer beauty and the way you're getting more attention than her in only the five minutes you've been here. That's what ye want me to say, correct?"

"Only if you truly mean it, pirate." I say with a laugh.

Jack grins. "Want to know why she really dislikes ye? Because ye have _the_ Captain Jack Sparrow for the night, that's why."

"Is that right?" I reply. "Well, I'm not sure I want to touch you after she has, then."

Amusement lights in his eyes as he shrugs nonchalantly at my words. "If ye don't, someone else will."

I glare at him but stay seated anyway, turning to grab my drink. I see AnaMaria, Jaden and Nolan approaching our table as I do this, shoving their way through the crowd.

"I heard word of an almost-cat-fight and instantly knew you were involved," Jaden tells me as he fills my discarded chair.

"I'll take that as a compliment," I reply.

"What happened?" Nolan asks.

Jack of course now takes it upon himself to explain. "Andie's jealous," he tells them simply.

My hazel eyes narrow at him dangerously. "And her jab at my appearance had nothing to do with it," I put sarcastically.

"But it began because she approached me," he supplies.

"You're so conceited it's disgusting," I say.

The pirate captain grins. "Tis true, but darling, ye knew that from the beginning."

Rodney chuckles from across the table. "The two of you fight so much that one would think you were more of enemies."

"They _are_ enemies," AnaMaria interjects. "That is, until tonight when they're making up and the rest of us can't sleep from all the noise they're making."

"Excuse me," I cut in, "But we do not 'make up'."

"Course not," Nolan says, "You fight during the day and by night the both of you are just feeling friendly."

"Why is this a topic of discussion?" I ask as Jack chuckles at the situation. He takes some sort of manly pride in the fact that his entire crew is aware of our physical relationship and nightly (as well as daily) activities.

Rodney smiles that handsome smile. "She has a point. Let's change the subject to something interesting."

I narrow my eyes at him but say nothing. I will gladly risk my pride at this moment in order to not discuss the relationship between Jack and I. Everything is very touch and go with us; we don't talk about it, but simply go through the motions day by day. And for now, that's good enough for me.

88888

An hour and two pints later, it is my turn to buy the next round. I try sliding myself from Jack's lap in order to venture over to the bar, but his arm only tightens about my waist. I turn to regard him, only for his mouth to meet mine. I grace him with a kiss for a long moment before pulling back, but his hold does not lesson.

"Jack," I whisper against his mouth, "Do you want more rum or not?"

He watches my lips as I speak, his hands venturing swiftly up my sides. "Is that a trick question?" the pirate asks.

I laugh. "Yes, darling, it's a trick question," I tell him, but only because I can see that slight drunken gaze beginning to form over his eyes. Pressing one last gentle kiss to his mouth, he then allows me to rise to my feet.

But as I approach the bar, a strange feeling overcomes me. An empty feeling fills the pit of my stomach and I briefly feel the hairs on my arms stand up straight. My instincts are much alike to those of a predator. Despite the knowing of unwanted eyes on my being, my instincts buzzing in my ears, I carry on as normal, for a sense of familiarity also surrounds me. Something tells me exactly who this predator is.

Suddenly something creeps over my flesh and I reach back instantly, my fingers wrapping around a thin arm as I jerk the person forward. But just as quickly my feet are kicked out from under me, and I land flat on my back, a familiar feminine form instantly moving to straddle my torso.

"Hello, Jacqueline," she says to me.

I smile. "Kamella. Fancy seeing you here."

Her light brown hair falls over her shoulders in soft waves to gently brush my flesh. "Your reflexes are as sharp as ever, but you're still having troubles guarding those feet of yours, I see."

I shrug. "Everyone has their flaws."

At the sound of boot steps, the two of us look over to see Jack and Rodney approaching, pushing their way past the various cliques of people. The two pirates appear slightly confused at first, but after a short moment, I see an amused twinkle light Jack's dark eyes.

"Well, this is interesting," he says. I smile. Truthfully, I would be both curious and interested as well if I found someone (preferably someone of the same sex) atop of him as well.

"Kamella Jackson," I introduce, "Meet Jack Sparrow."

She looks most surprised, but extends her hand anyway, her blue eyes twinkling with her inevitable mischief. Jack pulls her easily to her feet, placing a polite kiss to the back of her hand. "_Captain_ Jack Sparrow," he corrects me.

"Just as suave _and_ handsome as you're described in the stories," Kamella flaunts. "I did not expect that." She has always been a terrible flirt. Honestly, she has always been a terrible wench at times too. It brings back memories I have long since forgotten.

Chuckling, Jack swiftly helps me up off the floor with an easy movement of his arm, giving me a small grin and a quick amused wink.

"Watch yourself," Rodney tells Kamella, "Andie almost pummeled a lass back there for using that kind of language with Jack."

My friend raises an eyebrow, her eyes wandering innocently over Jack and I. Then, she says something I did not expect, obviously holding her tongue back from what she's really thinking. One thing about Kamella is that she's honest to a fault, but not overly so. She knows the meaning of tact. . . most of the time, anyway.

"Andie. . ." she considers, giving the name some thought. "So that's what you're going by these days. I like it."

I give her a smile. "What brings you here, Kamella?"

"Chester," she shrugs. "Sent me an urgent letter saying he's got something important to tell me. Any idea on what it is?"

I nod. "But it can wait. You know Chester, he'll find you when he needs to."

What Chester is meaning to speak with her about, the fortunes and ritual of Athena, is important for her to consume, I realize, but I figure treating her to a drink and a little conversation won't hurt. Besides, she's always ready for a fight.

"You're right," Kamella replies. "Join me for a drink, will you?"

"_I keep my jealousy close cause it's all mine  
__And if you say this makes you happy  
__Then I'm not the only one lying.  
__Keep quiet, nothing comes as easy as you  
__Can I lay in your bed all day?  
__I'll be your best kept secret and your biggest mistake."  
_"**Nobody Puts Baby in a Corner" -Fall Out Boy**

* * *

I'm so excited to write Kamella, this new character. She's a really fun, wild personality. More on her will be revealed in the next chapter.

Thanks to these people for reviewing:

**dreadlockedpencil, A Depp Girl, DinoGirl15, Genevra, RunawayPirate, xJacksJessx, POTCgrrl, SacredBliss, Cayeene Pepper Powder.** Thanks so much, my dears.

VooDooJayneSmith: Of course Jack always wins! He's Jack-freaking-Sparrow! Haha. You're twenty-two? Wow, I'm only sixteen, seventeen in December. Yeah, what's happening in New Orleans and such is very, very sad. I can't even watch the news anymore because it depresses me. You have a nice week too, darling.


	11. Then & Now

**Chapter Eleven**

"_**Loyalty is still the same, whether it win or loose the game; true as a dial to the sun, although it be not shined upon."  
**__**-Samuel Butler**_

"Kamella, don't exaggerate!"

"I'm not exaggerating!" my old friend defends, "She was absolutely _horrible_ with a sword!"

Rodney, who is sitting beside me, frowns and raises his bandaged forearm. "You could have fooled me," he says, but I can see the friendly sparkle in his eyes.

Two days earlier when he had insisted upon fencing with me, I accidently nicked his arm with my blade. The handsome young pirate is good with a sword, but he's fairly apprentice considered to the years of practice that others like Jack and I have had. I suppose I should go easy on him next time. He was a good sport about it though, and we continued our duel about a half hour before I had noticed the blood staining his clothing. And although I revealed the wound was fairly deep as I wrapped a bandage about his arm, Rodney had insisted that he hadn't felt a thing.

"I lost my footing often, is all," I defend. "Doesn't mean I was a horrible swordsman!"

"You always loose your footing," Kamella supplies with a friendly smile. "It's perhaps one of your only weaknesses."

Jack chuckles from beside me and takes a drink of rum from his bottle. "I know of a few more we could add to that list," he murmurs so low that if you weren't listening, you wouldn't have heard it.

I give him the worst glare I can manage. "Want to share some of your own weaknesses then, Jack?" I begin with a knowing grin.

The pirate captain raises an eyebrow. "What are ye talkin' 'bout, love? I don't have any."

But I beg to differ. "What about when I use my tongue while-"

He cuts me off by pressing the palm of his hand to my mouth. "Now that's not nice, Andie, makin' things up and all. Ye know ol' Jack has no weak points! Unassailable comes to mind, in fact..."

"He's a goner," I say with a smile. "Trust me."

A soft chuckling surrounds us at my words, but when my eyes meet Kamella's she is inspecting both Jack and I, sitting beside each other with his hand gently massaging my thigh, with a slight frown. "So, Captain Sparrow," she starts, "Are you Andie's latest charge?"

Jack takes another drink of the amber liquid from his bottle. "Ye could say that," he says after a moment, a barely-there, amused smile lifting at his lips.

Kamella looks at me with a stern expression, but as soon as I catch it, it's gone. "I see," she replies.

I almost roll my eyes at her response. Kamella is much a like if not exactly how I used to be; the only thing her heart is in is the fight. She loves men, but she doesn't _love_ men. She won't understand my choices or my relationship with Jack, I know. And I'm sure when the two of us are alone, the subject is bound to surface again.

"Look," Kamella says to me, "Why don't we make this a girls night? Time to catch up and all that bull shit?"

Inside I'm hesitating, but I nod despite myself, too proud to show my doubts. Girls night? As in just she and I, no infamous pirate that I've spend every night with since the evening he kissed my hand in my father's ballroom? Well, maybe a night away from each other will do us some good.

"A friend of mine owns a tavern on the other side of the island," she continues. "It'll be just like old times. Let's just hope we don't get thrown into a prison cell this time around," Kamella adds with a demure smile.

"You don't mind, do you?" I question Jack gently. And some part of me is hoping he'll say yes, he does mind, and he wants me to stay with him. I feel bad for fearing the conversations Kamella is sure to bring up.

He shakes his head, and I know he catches that gleam in my eye, but he smiles slightly, wanting to make me squirm, as always. I'm sure he understands what my old friend is going to say to me; he's a smart man, after all. He understands my old lifestyle. "Course not," he says despite me.

I give him a smile anyways and press a kiss to his lips before Kamella takes me by the hand and pulls me to my feet. "Don't wait up," she tells Jack with a flirtatious wink.

88888

"So, what's with you and the pirate?"

I raise a dark eyebrow at my friend's question and feign an act of innocence. "What do you mean?" I ask as we walk past the drunkards and their public displays of affection with overly-thin strumpets.

"You're fond of him," Kamella complies.

Needless to say, I'm quite amused with her observations. "Is it that obvious?" I ask her anyway, a small smile on my face.

Kamella shakes her head. "No. But I can tell. It could be that look in your eyes; it's new. Something I've never seen before."

I shrug. "I'm happy, Kamella."

But this fact doesn't seem to be of any importance to her. "You love him, don't you? You're going to get yourself killed, Andie. Things shouldn't get so personal in our line of work, you know that."

"I know I do," I confirm, although I frown upon her making it sound as though we are street whores in Tortuga. "But it's a risk I'm willing to take."

"And he's willing to take this chance as well?" Kamella questions. "He's a _pirate_, for Christ's sake!"

I frown. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"He's the most wanted man in the Caribbean," she complies. "And in more ways than once. The King's army is hunting him down constantly; his life, as well as yours, is always at stake. And I won't forget to remind you that there are countless women at every Port throwing themselves at his disposal. I know you've heard every last tale, Andie, you're no ignorant fool."

"Are you trying to make a point here, Kamella?" I question with a scowl.

She sighs. "He's going to break your heart one way or another, is what I'm saying."

I roll my eyes. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Well, don't be surprised when I say I told you so."

"Look, can we just drop the subject? Jack's and my relationship is already as complicated as it is," I supply.

Kamella nods. "Gladly." She's quiet for a long moment as we walk, her blue eyes on the road before us. Then, she asks, "So what else have you been doing besides shagging criminals and fencing with his crew?"

"That's about it," I reply, cutting her some slack on her comments. "I've been away for awhile. Spent a year back in England with my family."

"No kidding!" Kamella exclaims. "Loyal finally grabbed a hold of you? Fancy that!"

I nod. "It was interesting, no doubt."

She suddenly stops before a small home with loud music booming from the open door. I can see the men playing their instruments by the door, the whiskey flowing and the people dancing about inside. "Ready to have a good time?" she asks with a grin. "I'm going to get you so drunk that you won't be able to see straight!"

"Yay?" is my response.

She pulls me inside with enthusiasm, curling her fingers around mine and pushing her way through the crowd. I'm not surprised when she presses herself against the bar and flirts endlessly with the barman, giving him an 'innocent' peak of her cleavage that is so conveniently placed within his sight, until our drinks are free of charge and the man is eager to give us anything and everything we want. And as Kamella takes a drink of that bottle of rum, the sparkle in her eye is as though she had just built an entire city with just her bare hands.

"Now that's what I call talent," she tells me.

I laugh and shake my head at her actions, knowing she uses her good looks and flirtatious tongue to get her by in life. And I must admit that I'm somewhat ashamed at the fact that I used to be the same way. But the strange part is, I can't remember when I changed so much.

But I do recall when I realized the rash quality of my actions. I was in Spain, a few months before I had even met the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow, and my current charge had just dressed and left after I had allowed him to have his way with me. And I remember truly hating myself. I remember loathing my very essence and what I'd become, more than I had loathed anything in my entire life. And as I laid in that cold, uncomfortable bed, the white sheet pooled dramatically down around my hips, I promised myself I would change. That I would stop getting drunk every night, stop sleeping with men I barely knew, and come down off my egotistical high. I remember crying myself to sleep, but when morning came, I was so depressed that I had done everything I had vowed not to all over again. I was too weak to stop myself, although I appeared strong. And two months later, I was here in the Caribbean, searching for my new charge titled dark and handsome.

"You're thinking about _him_, aren't you?" Kamella's voice broke through my crystal-clear reverie.

"No," I reply, "I'm not thinking about Jack."

She rolls her eyes and sets our drinks down on the bar. "Liar," my friend accuses me. "We're going to find you a handsome bloke you can use for the night. That'll get him out of your mind soon enough."

I shake my head. "No, Kamella, you don't understand. I'm not like that anymore. I've changed."

"That's your problem," she confesses. "You've changed too much."

"For the better," I defend. "I wasn't happy being the way I was."

"Funny. You looked happy enough to me."

"Can't we just have a few drinks and catch up like we planned? I'm not really in the mood to fight with you at the moment," I say, now feeling entirely uncomfortable.

"Fine," she replies, and downs her drink. "Sounds like a plan to me. No fighting."

"No fighting," I agree, and take a drink of my own.

88888

An hour or two later (I seem to have lost track of time), Kamella and I are seated at a table with five other man, three practically drooling over her smooth, suggestive words, and the other two trying way too hard to gain my attention.

I'm extremely bored, not to mention boarding on extremely drunk. The man on my right says something about buying me yet another drink, and I instantly deny him. "I'm already going to have the worst hangover in the morning. Please, lets not add to my misery."

Kamella laughs at this. "It'll be worth it, Andie," she tells me. "It always is." She has also had her share of rum and her words are slightly slurred.

"Everyone else is doing it, right?" I question. "You were always into that sort of thing; peer pressure and what not."

She smiles. "And you were always into telling me to shut the hell up."

"Oh, thanks for reminding me. Shut the hell up, Kamella."

The man on my left laughs. "You sure have a sharp tongue on you, lass."

I finish off the last of my second bottle of rum, raising an eyebrow at his words and gruff voice. "You have no idea," I reply.

His hand begins gathering up my skirts, his claw-like fingers latching onto my thigh. "I'd like to," he purrs in my ear.

Immediately an alarm goes off in my head. These hands aren't quite rough enough, aren't familiar enough. His voice isn't slurred enough, isn't smooth enough. "Get the fuck off me," I bite.

The man chuckles and leans foreword in attempt to latch his lips to my neck, but I lean out of his reach. "I heard Andie Bryant likes to play hard to get," he supplies.

I hit him so hard he falls from his chair and lands in the dirt on his arse. "Try it again and I'll break your face," I hiss.

Suddenly, someone grabs me from behind, but just as soon they're reeling back, blood pooling from his nose and Kamella standing before him. If worse came to worse, I know she'd always stick by my side.

"Come on," she says, looping her arm in mine. "I'm about to get sick, anyway."

"_Is she trouble, like I'm trouble?  
Make it a double twist of fate or a melody that  
She sings the revolution, the dawning of our lives  
She brings this liberation that I just cant define  
Well, nothing comes to mind.  
She's a rebel, she's a saint  
She's salt of the earth  
And she's dangerous."  
_"_**She's A Rebel" -Green Day**_

* * *

Hello, all. How are you?

Before I get started reviewing the reviews, I just wanted to mention a story that one of my reviewers has asked me to mention, for it hasn't received the notice it deserves; Andie Anderson said that if you like my stories (which I hope you do), you will also enjoy "The Chalice of Doom" by Istani. So, if you have some time and want to check out an apparently awesome story, why don't you give it a peek?

Thanks to the following who reviewed: **Genevra, DinoGirl15, A Depp Girl, Depps1andOnly**, **purplemoon07**, & **Andie Anderson.**

VooDooJayneSmith: My birthday is on December 9th too! Fancy that! Yeah, people tell me I'm really mature for my age all the time. I take pride in that considering a lot of the people around me every day, but I know I can't be mature all the time; sometimes I have to act my age, haha. Thanks so much for all the kind words, and feel free to let me know if you have any ideas, I know that you mentioned something about the readers contributing in your last review. I would enjoy it very much.

IDidn'tDoIt121: You didn't have any power? Man, I bet that's rough! How is your town doing? I'm sure your entire state is in a bit of a shock. And yes, to answer your question, I love MCR. I've been listening to them for a couple years now, although I hadn't really gotten into them as much as I have recently, but I suppose that's understandable with their sudden new-found success. I saw them live over the summer and fell head over heals all over again!

Dreadlockedpencil: Terry Fox Day? What is that? Haha, sorry, I am so obviously American.

Speak-to-the-waves: No worries, you spelled everything right.


	12. A Handful

**Chapter Twelve**

"_**Wounds from a friend can be trusted, but an enemy multiplies kisses."  
**__**-The Holy Bible**_

It's pouring down rain as Kamella and I push our way through the dashing people and enter the Faithful Bride tavern. The day is near to rise, although the clouds are blocking the sun from illuminating the sky. Jack will be here still, although the inside is bare of its usual drunkards and the sun is beginning to rise in the sky. We stayed out much longer than I had realized.

"Maybe he went back to the _Black Pearl_ for the night," Kamella suggests as she looks about the empty room.

I shake my head. "No. He always stays in a room while in Port."

She raises an eyebrow as I approach the stairwell that leads upstairs to the inn. "What are you going to do, call his name until he responds? You don't even know what room he's in."

"He always stays in room number six," I tell her. "It's his lucky number."

Kamella laughs. "He is superstitious too?"

I shrug. "Not particularly."

"Well, I'm in room seven," she tells me, dangling the key before my eyes. "Right next door. And if I'm awaken by the two of you shagging like bunnies, Andie, then I'll be forced to kick your skinny arse."

I chuckle at her words. "Try your best."

The rain water is nearly pooling off us as we attempt to climb the stairs, stumbling over our own slippery feet in our slightly drunken haze. I suddenly trip on a slick step and fall forward, but Kamella grabs a hold on me before I hit the ground.

"You never could keep your balance on those feet of yours," she tells me with a laugh. "It's your only curse, as I've mentioned before. I'd hate to see what you were like before you get your sea legs."

I smile. "It wasn't that bad, I assure you." And with that, we climbed to the top, holding onto once another's arms for support.

"Goodnight," I tell her.

"Sweet dreams," she replies. "Don't wear yourself out too much."

Giving her a knowing grin, I slowly open the door to the sixth door on the right. It's black inside, but I can just make out the frame of the large bed. Quietly kicking off my boots, I then undo the ties on my soaked dress, slipping it over tender curves and allowing it to pool at my feet. Jack doesn't stir in the bed as I pull off my garters and toss them in a damp heap of black lace, but his breathing is deep and even.

Slowly, I crawl into the bed beside him and press two fingertips to his back, dragging the digits down his spine in a slow deliberate manner. His bronze skin is blissfully warm as his shoulders arch inward, and I lean forward to press my lips to the heat.

He exhales sleepily before turning to face me, his eyes dark and shining with sleep. The pirate reaches out to touch my glistening skin, my scent fresh and clean thanks to the newly fallen rain.

"You're soaked, darling," Jack murmurs with a small smile, reaching up to run fingers through my dripping black locks.

"It's raining like cats and dogs out there," I reply as he runs rough hands over my skin, warming my chilled body.

"I must admit," he begins, pressing a kiss to my shoulder, "I didn't expect ye to be gone so long. Had a nice time despite yerself, did ye?"

I roll my eyes. "Not exactly."

Jack chuckles and leans down to gently peck my bottom lip. "What happened?"

"Well," I begin, "We fought about you, and then me, and then a sailor in the tavern tried pawing me," I frown and relax beneath his touch, nearly purring at his questioning hands.

Jack grins. "I'm sure ye didn't allow him to get by with such behavior."

"Of course not!" I reply. "And Kamella had to get on one of his mates who didn't want _me_ to get by, either."

He leans in to kiss my lips. "And you've also been drinking, I see."

I can't hide the smile that lifts at the corners of my mouth. "Kamella's quite persistent."

Jack considers this for a moment. "She's cursed as well, isn't she?"

I nod. "That she is."

Then, he grins. "She dislikes me. And for once, it's not on my own accord."

I shake my head. "It's not you, it's _us._ She said we're going to get one another killed."

He chuckles as he leans down to line my collar bone with kisses. "Not if we kill each other before they can get to us."

I laugh. "How long do you think it'll be before we start fighting again? I'd say this is a record."

I won't deny that Jack and I have a very love/hate relationship. When it comes down to it, we actually hate everything about each other, and I think that is because we are so much alike. We're both stubborn and independent, outlandish with a dangerous lust for the fight. We're drawn to each other by the same forces that compel us away.

"I'd give us a week or two," Jack admits, chuckling quietly against my neck.

"Uh huh," I say, kissing his lips. I'm still feeling a bit hazy, and all I can think about is the way his hands feel against my skin, the caress of his tongue on mine. Jack slides his hands down to my hips as I move to straddle his waist, my mouth obviously distracting him. "Are you too tired?" I ask with a grin.

"Mmm," he replies as his eyes roam over my dampened body, his rough hands tracing familiar curves and soft skin. "Never."

88888

"Darling, wake up," a voice whispers in my ear.

I groan. "Five more minutes."

Kisses are peppered about my shoulders as I bury myself into a familiar body, a deep chuckling filling the room. "Can't let ye do that, Andie."

"Shh," I tell him, "My ears are incapable of processing loud noises."

The captain of the _Black Pearl_ laughs at the evidence of my heavy drinking the night before. "Sorry," he laughs in a softer voice, still trying to rouse me.

I crack open one eye to see him leaning over me, a grin on his face, already dressed and ready for another day. "Why are you covered up?" I ask, fooling with the buttons on his shirt and vest.

He nonchalantly swats my hands away and bends down to greet me with a good morning kiss. "I had to run an errand or two," he explains.

"What time is it?"

"A bit past noon, love."

I frown. "I didn't realize it was so late."

Jack grins a sideward smirk. "That's because you've been sleepin'."

"I like sleeping," I defend.

He laughs. "I've noticed."

"-Because it's not often that I get to do so."

The pirate allows his hands to trace along my stomach as his lips brush along my collar. "I don't keep ye up that much."

"Yes, you do," I argue with a smile.

He raises his head to meet his chocolate depths with my own hazel irises. "Ye never complain in the moment."

"That's because in the moment I'm never thinking straight," I say with an amused smile.

"Well," Jack begins, removing his roaming hands from my flesh. "Maybe I should leave you here, then. I'll tell Kamella you're catching up on your sleep." he begins lifting himself up from the bed, but I grab his arm.

"I'm not tired," I say quickly.

He laughs. "I didn't think so."

Then, he begins gathering my disposed clothing from the floor. I sit up in bed, running a hand through my hair and stretching tense muscles. "You've seen Kamella this morning then, I take it?"

Jack tosses my clothing beside me on the bed, nodding as he does so. "She's spoken with Chester as well. Apparently someone-" he stops, watching my face and expression closely. "Yer jealous."

I'm completely caught off guard by his statement. "What? Why would you say that?"

"The look on yer face," he replies. "It's not honest."

I shake my head. "No, Jack, I'm just curious."

He gives me a stern look. "Don't ye trust me?"

"Yes, I trust you," I reply in all honesty. Then, I can't help but release a breath. "It's. . . it's her I don't trust."

Kamella is my friend, I know, and I love her more than life itself, but the truth is, she's not honest and she's not very trustworthy. I know her feelings about mine and Jack's relationship, and that only makes the situation worse. She could try and talk him about of this thing that he and I have going on (would he even listen to such nonsense?) or. . . well, honestly, I don't even know. And with that look she gave Jack when she first saw him (I could almost swear she licked her lips like some sort of bloodshed predator) who knows what that girl has going through her mind. I just don't trust her with him, is what I'm saying.

But now that I have, I feeling utmost guilty about it. Maybe I'm all wrong about the situation; it would never happen, right? I mean, I have been wrong before. It's not often, but it's probable.

Jack raises an eyebrow and opens his mouth to speak, but before he can reply, a knock sounds loudly upon the door. He walks over and pulls it open with a swift movement of his arm, revealing none other then the object of our conversation herself.

"Hey," he greets Jack, lightly brushing his arm as she walks over to me, sitting up but still buried in the covers of the bed. "Morning sunshine!"

She's one of those people who make you smile, even if you don't want to. "Good morning, Kamella," I say with a quiet laugh.

"Stanley's in town," my friend supplies, settling herself beside me upon the bed. "Cjester said he just came in from Paris. Said he had some trouble there with mobs and snakes and all. Any idea what that much bed luck means?"

"Stanley?" Jack inquires.

"He's a. . . co-worker." I explain.

Kamella raises an eyebrow at my words. "Is that what you call it? I say he's just as damned as we are."

"How many are there?" the pirate captain asks as he pats his vest pocket, feeling for a matchbook to light the small brown cigarette between his lips.

"Only a handful," Kamella replies. "But after this mess with the Fortunes of Athena, who knows how many of us will be left!"

I frown. "Why do you say that?"

She tucks a lock of her light brown hair behind her ears, shrugging her shoulders. "Chester is frightened, Andie. This thing is bigger then he previously thought."

"How so?"

"Remember Margot? She was from, I don't know, Russia or something. The really young one? Well, she's six feet under now. Ran into a mob there, just like Stanley did."

Jack's brow creases in most adorable confusion. "How did they know she was cursed?"

Kamella shrugs. "Hell if I know. But Chester did mention something about possesion."

"_Possession?_" I repeat. "God dammit, I don't feel like dealing with that mess again."

She shrugs once more. "Sounds like fun if you as me." Then, she tosses me clothes at me. "Get dressed, duchess. I'm sure Stanley is just waiting for us to barge in on him."

"**Well I pictured you in blue  
But I have to say I'm more partial to the red  
Deep, dark, and devastating  
Leaving no question as to where you've been.  
I calm the crowd by keeping quiet  
Move like a shadow up to your matress  
Gentlemen don't ask questions."  
**_"Little Devotional" -Taking Back Sunday_

* * *

I haven't been getting a whole lot of writing in lately, but I do have the next two chapters written, so I will try to get those up soon. I have a job now so I have to find the time between work and school and my _life_ to sit down and get them typed up, haha. 

Anyways... I love reviews, and they just make me want to update so much more hint.

Thanks to the following for reviewing last chapter: **DinoGirl15**, **Genevra**, **Istani**, **speak-to-the-waves**, **Lyra Potter**, **Depps1andOnly**, **Andie Anderson**, **rocdiva99**, **rock n roll star.**

Ididn'tdoit121: Mikey is uber adorable and oh so emo. He always looks so emotionless and doesn't really talk that much, but when he does, it's always something cute and random. Gotta love him. Yeah, I've been listening to The Used from the very beginning; I've always been a big fan of them.

Xjammi-JessX- Yep, I did know it was talk like a pirate day! I love those random pointless holidays.

LoLoMo- Well, I don't think she or any of the characters ever came out and said it, but she did have problems with her footing during the sword fights in _Fair_. A moment I particularly remember was in the second (I think) chapter when Jack and Andie are fencing and she's kicking his ass, but then looses her footing and trips them both, haha.

Dreadlockedpencil: Wow, that's amazing! No, I didn't know who he was. We don't really learn anything about Canada or Canadians here, I guess. That or I just don't pay attention.


	13. Six Feet Under

**Chapter Thirteen**

"_**To run away from trouble is a form of cowardice and, while it is true that the suicide braves death, he does it not for some noble object but to escape some ill."**_

_**-Aristotle**_

"It's been forever since I've seen him last," Kamella says as the four of us walk down a crowded street in Tortuga, her arm laced in mine and Jack and Chester engrossed in a heated argument about rum behind us.

"How long is forever?" I ask.

She considers this for a moment. "Five months."

I laugh. "I haven't seen him in _two years_."

"Well, forever to _me_, anyway."

"Felling lonely, are you?" I inquire.

Kamella frowns. "What do you mean by that?"

"I'm not bloody blind, Mel," I tell her. "I know you and Stanley were sleeping together."

She leads me towards the small inn Stanley is staying in, the place small but looking most comfortable. Well, for a place in Tortuga, anyway.

"We were _not_ sleeping together," Kamella stubbornly defends.

"I walked in on you!" I exclaim. "We were living in Vienna and I came back to grab my sword and the two of you were getting lively in our room."

She has a majestic twinkle in her bright blue eyes. "You should have knocked."

"-In _my _bed, might I add."

Kamella smiles. "He's persistent."

Then, after looking back to find Jack and Chester still not listening in on our conversation, she grins. "So, what about Jack? I've heard all the stories, Andie. That man is said to know how to please a woman unlike any other."

I don't know what it is, but someone seems to always be interested in mine and Jack's sex life. "I'll never tell," I reply with a sly smirk.

She laughs. "I can always ask him."

"You already know what he would say," I comply with a knowing smile. "He would go on and on about how dashing and seductive he is."

"Do you know what I think?" Kamella inquires. "I think you're frightened to admit that man brings you to your knees."

My eyebrows raise on their own accord. "Elaborate, please."

She lowers her voice so only I can hear. "You're so used to being in charge with everything. Especially when it comes with men. But with Jack, I can tell it's different." I open my mouth to argue with her accusation, but she goes on before I can do so. "I heard the two of you in that room last night, Andie. I couldn't even sleep the two of you were so damn loud! Now either I am completely wrong and you are a fantastic actress, or that man breaks you down. He's more to you than just sex. Don't think I haven't noticed now you're being so private, so personal."

I'm almost silenced by her words. I suppose I am just surprised at how much I have apparently changed since I have last seen her. "Things with Jack _are_ personal, Kamella."

She nods. "I was just making a point; but don't forget what I said last night: don't be surprised when I say I told you so."

88888

"What room did he say Stanley was staying in again?" Kamella asks as she studies the numbers carved in the doorframe above the doors themselves.

"Six," Jack replies instantly. His lucky number.

She stops before said door and knocks in a most nonchalant manner. Everything with her is nonchalant. Impatiently, she taps her foot after a long moment when no one answers, knocking once again. "Stanley Burns," Kamella calls, "If you don't answer this door instantly, I will be forced to come in and-" A dog's bark replies, surprising us all.

"He has a dog?" I ask, then stop, slightly baffled. "Is he responsible enough to take care of a dog?" I add with a laugh.

Chester chuckles. "Her name is Norma Jean. She's a big thing for just a pup."

Always being the less considerate one, Kamella turns the nob and cracks open the door. "The man up in front said he never came out-" she silences at the sound of a heavy _thump_. "Bloody hell, what was that?" she continues, pushing past the barking dog and into the room. "Oh my God..."

At the sound of distress in her smooth voice, I follow her in. And there, before my eyes is something I never expected or wished I'd see. Stanley Burns hangs by a thick rope by his neck, his skin a deadly white, lips blue, and feet just barely off the ground. A frightened gasp leaves my lips before I can stop myself.

Suddenly someone grabs me about the waist and lifts me easily from the room with a strong arm. "Andie," Jack says sternly and sets me back on my feet. "Stay out here, do you hear me?"

"Jack," I begin as a familiar numbness begins creeping over my body, still reeling from the shock. "I'm not just-"

"Stay," the pirate captain repeats. Gently, he reaches up and touches my cheek. "Savvy?"

After a moment, the shock wears itself out and the realization and sadness sets in. Seeing this, Jack leans in and grants me with a tender, empathetic kiss. Then he turns and closes the door nearly shut behind him and leaving me to my lonesome.

Or, at least, I thought I was. With a small movement of her tail, Norma Jean brushes against my leg, nearly scaring me half to death. Kneeling, I reach out and scratch her neck, sinking my fingertips into her soft fur. She lets out a contented sigh and sits down beside me, encouraging me to scratch her further. And that's when I notice the ribbon tied around her neck like a collar, a piece of parchment attached.

Hands shaking, I untie the makeshift tie from the dogs neck and unfold the note. I recognize Stanley's messy handwriting instantly:

_Andie–_

_It's about time you had someone to take care of you._

I re-read the message about five times before I allow the information and realization to completely sink in: this situation is no doubt a suicide.

I try not to think about it, but despite myself I cannot help but remember the last time I had seen Stanley; it was two years ago, while the two of us were in the same place and the same time, a rare occurrence. I was depressed because my latest charge had just been killed. Painlessly and in his sleep, but killed none the less. I had failed; but Stanley of course saw it differently.

"We can't win all the battles," he explained to me. "It's not possible. The world would be too perfect."

"But I could have prevented it," I explained as he walked me to the docks, for another charge was awaiting me in Spain. "I wasn't even there to stop the bastard!"

Stanley wrapped an arm about my shoulders , his body warm and strong. "But you did get him thrown into the jail. He won't hurt another soul because of you. You should be joyful!"

I shook my head. "His damage has already been done. My job was to protect my charge, and I failed to do so."

"Kamella would say that your heart is the problem here, that you care too much," Stanley supplied. "But that's what I admire about you. You're willing to give everything from the clothing off your back to your very life in order to save someone. And that, no matter what anyone tells you, is most honorable."

"Is it?" I inquired as my steps came to a stop, the edge of the dock and the ship to Spain only a few feet away. "Chester scolds me for the very same; in this business I'll get myself killed for thinking too much, for feeling too much. It's not like I was in love with the man, but still."

Stanley laughed. "Funny that you only care about them when they're dead."

I swatted at him, narrowing my eyes at his crack at my lack of patience and feeling with my relationships. And I wouldn't have admitted it then, but I suppose he was right. I was always going from one charge tot he next, a new man in my bed with every new mission. They were no more than someone warm to curl up to at night, no more than someone to temporarily distract me and make me feel something other than alone, other then empty. I didn't care until they showed up dead in the morning or missing and I felt ever more of a failure. Then they were just a lost soul; and it was that I cared about: the fact that someone has died under my watch, not that a man I had slept with only the night before was suddenly six feet under.

"I'll see you soon," Stanley said. "You take care of yourself, aye?"

I smiled. "I always do."

He returned it. "I don't ever think you'll ever loose that cocky attitude of yours."

"I'm not cocky, I'm confident. There's a difference."

"An outsider would think you were royalty," my friend supplied. I laughed; women are supposed to be most humble and kind, gentle and quiet. I'm not exactly the ideal lady. I'm unruly and somewhat conceited, stubborn and proud. He was right; one might think me to be princess material with my un-ladylike ways.

He touched my cheek with a friendly palm. "Just be careful, all right? I always worry when you're so far away with no one to watch your back."

Stanley always treated me like a little sister. It bot frustrated and lightened me. "I can take care of myself," I condemned.

"I know," he replied. "I just wish you had someone there to be with you. Someone to take care of you, whether your capable or not."

"Stop," I told him. "You're reminding me of Loyal." My older brother was always so protective over me.

"All right, all right. Goodbye for now." And with that, I gave him one last squeeze of his hand and walked away.

I sigh heavily, taking yet another glimpse at the dog before me; she's a pretty thing. "Norma Jean, is it?" I ask her, smiling gently as she nuzzles my hand.

"Andie?" I look up to see Kamella standing in the doorway. "Chester kicked me out." Then, she takes a seat beside me, placing a comforting hand on my leg.

I want to say something, maybe ask her if she's all right or suggest that everything will be just fine, that perhaps this was just a mistake, but nothing comes out. I'm suddenly silnced by my own fears and sorrow.

"_If there's no one beside you  
When your soul embarks  
Then I'll follow you into the dark.  
You and me have seen everything to see   
From Bangcock to Calgary  
And the soles of your shoes are all worn down  
The time for sleep is now  
It's nothing to cry about."_

"**I will follow you into the dark" -Death Cab for Cutie**

Blah, I'm sorry for my lack of updating lately. I've been really busy and stressed out. Work is so hectic and I'm working hard to keep my grades up. And I also just bought the first seasons of 21 Jump Street and Veronica Mars on DVD, so I've been spending a lot of my free time watching those, haha. I can't help it; they're addicting! Especially 21 Jump Street; Johnny is so adorable with his 80's hair and baby face. That man makes me nearly drool all over myself.

Reviews are lovely, lovely, lovely.

Thanks: **dinogirl15**, **dreadlockedpencil**, **genevra**, **depps1andonly**, **xjammi-jessx**, **LoLoMo**, **alonefreehearted**, **poisonous angel**.

Ididn'tdoit121: Yeah, I've heard Under Pressure. Great song, both the original and cover.

Speak-to-the-waves: Where have you gone, my dear? We haven't talked in like... months!

VooDooJayneSmith: You don't like Andie's stuff about Kamella... You mean what she does around Kamella or what she says about her?


	14. Strange Forces

**Chapter Fourteen**

"_**When I saw you, I was afraid to meet you. When I met you, I was afraid to kiss you. When I kissed you, I was afraid to love you. Now that I love you, I'm afraid to loose you."  
**__**-Anonymous **_

We must have sat there in silence for about ten minutes (it felt like ten years) before that bedroom door opened again and the unruly Captain Jack Sparrow stepped out. "Come on," he said, and extended his hand out toward me.

I watched as Norma Jean pushed her way back into the room, her curious nose searching. "Where are we going?" I ask, allowing him to wrap his fingers around my own and easily pull me to my feet.

"To the _Pearl_," he replies, helping Kamella up as well.

"We're leaving Tortuga?" I ask. Jack simply nods.

"Why so quickly?" She enquires, following us down the hallway.

Jack doesn't answer her, but continues as though she hadn't spoken at all. "Do not leave a trail of any kind. Be sure to take everything with you."

"Jack," I say gently, needing an explanation. He doesn't answer. "_Jack_."

He gives me a sideward glance. "What is it, Andie?"

"Care to explain all of this?" I press.

"He committed suicide," Kamella complies for him. "What is there to explain?"

I roll my eyes. Everyone is on a sharp edge, it would seem. "I'm not speaking of Stanley, Mel. I mean, why are we suddenly rushing off the island?"

Jack's quiet for a moment before saying, almost inaudibly, "Because I don't want them to get to you too."

"_Them_?" I reply, touching his arm as we exit the inn. "Who?" Kamella walks ahead, apparently not wanting to hear more.

The captain of the _Black Pearl_ shakes his head, staying silent for a moment. I give up on the chance of an explanation and sigh inwardly, walking beside him with a million questions. Then, out of nowhere, his fingers suddenly entwine with mine, warming my skin and making my chest jump. Butterflies. I look down at our hands, completely confused and almost in awe with such a simple gesture. Jack and I are physically intimate, that much is obvious, but we are most certainly not a normal couple. We aren't so 'lovey dovey' as some would call it. Which would explain my questioning gaze at his action.

But Jack does not falter at this gesture. He looks straight ahead, completely confident, his jaw set. His emotions are reeling, I can tell. He's so good at hiding his emotions, but I can always tell when something has upset him; his eyes get dark, almost cold, the muscles in his call tense, the jokes and sarcasm are gone, and most importantly, the pet names are nowhere to be seen; no darlings, no loves. . . What had they found in Stanley's room that could cause him to react this way?

"What are you not telling me?" I ask him quietly after a moment.

Jack looks at me out of the corner of his eyes. "We cannot ignore the rumors of the Fortunes anymore, Andie. There are strange forces at work here."

"What did Chester tell you?"

"Apparently your mate Stanley knew his fate was not to be pretty and ended it before it was too late," Jack explains.

For once I am almost completely silenced. "What are you saying, that someone will come after us in order to get to Athena's fortunes?"

He nods. "Chester seems to think so."

What do I say to something like that? Is Jack suggesting that we just keep running? I can't run forever, just as he spoke in my dream back in England. _They_, whoever they are, are bound to find us eventually. And that is when I will kick their sorry ass for ever messing with me and mine in the first place!

"We'll set sail as soon as possible," Jack suddenly says. "I have friends in Port Royal. You'll be safe there."

"Stop," I say, my eyebrows raising and my feet stopping in their tracks. "You're leaving me there?" Would he? Maybe I am causing him too much trouble, ever since the beginning.

Suddenly, Jack kisses me. "Never. I mean you'll be safe until we advise a plan. Until we know more about this curse of yours and the fortunes."

The Faithful Bride is close now. "People will do anything for gold, won't they?"

Jack touches my cheek. "Ye have no idea, love."

88888

Tonight, the captain of the _Black Pearl_ is on a rampage. A silent rampage, that is. Things are not awkward but tense, and I'm still most curious about the words exchanged between Chester and Jack earlier in Stanley's hotel room.

Finding Jack in his cabin, I enter quietly and close the door behind me, spotting him instantly at his desk with a bottle of rum in hand. The expression on his face is pensive. I slide into his lap easily, my knees hugging his waist. The pirate wraps an arm about my hips in return, his fingers caressing in a silent welcome.

"Kamella has taken a liking to Rodney, it seems. She volunteered him to share his cabin with her," I tell him with a smile. He forces one in return, running a thoughtful hand through my long, straight hair.

"What are you thinking about?" I ask him gently, touching the back of his neck with light fingertips.

He takes a drink of rum from the bottle. "Nothin', love."

"Liar," I accuse him. He doesn't respond. "Please, Jack. Talk to me."

He kisses me instead. The caress is so hard, so demanding that my lips almost sting when he pulls back. "I love ye," he says, his voice dark.

I'm not sure whether to smile or weep. I lean in, my mouth just barely touching his. "I love _you_. . ."

His eyes are almost black, they are so indifferent. "I won't let anyone hurt ye, Andie. No one. And I won't let anyone have ye, either."

I nod, the pads of my fingertips tracing the scar lightly on his jaw. "I know, darling. I know." I kiss him again. His mouth is warm and addicting against mine, and after a moment, I have to have more friction. More contact, more heat.

I begin unbuttoning his shirt, but he strangely pulls my hands away, his eyes searching mine. "That night, when Anson struck ye. . . I nearly lost it, Andie. He hit you so hard that it completely knocked ye out. And the look on yer face, the innocence. . . ye hadn't even seen it coming. I almost killed him. Would have to, if Loyal wouldn't have pulled me off him," Jack strokes my cheek with two rough fingers, looking into my hazel eyes with abandonment. "Just the thought of someone hurting ye again drives me up a wall."

I wrap my fingers about his hand, bringing it to my lips for a soft kiss. "They won't. No one is going to hurt me, Jack. No one will even attempt it."

"Ye don't know that," he tells me. "This curse. . . it's not going to be easy." It's almost as though he cannot finish his sentence, as though he cannot fully explain to me how many worries and fears are going through his mind.

I try my luck on his shirt again, my burning eyes locked with his own. "No more worries, all right? Let me distract you." I see the small lift of a smile begin at his lips as I lean down to kiss him again, my fingers quickly undoing the fabric and spreading along the tanned skin and smooth muscles it reveals when open.

And for the rest of the night, thoughts of the curse or any of this nonsense did not dare to cross our minds.

888888

I am only half asleep tonight when I hear a sound outside the captains quarters. I had woken up momentarily to a slight breeze upon my chilled skin and I curled up to the pirate captain next to me, quickly falling back into my blissful slumber with his strong arms wrapped about my waist and my face buried in his neck.

It was a quiet but firm knock upon the door that finally roused me from the covers. I sat up, careful not to wake Jack, and hugged the sheet over my chest as I turned to peer at the door. Whatever it is, it better be important for such a late night visit. . .

The door cracked open, and Chester carefully poked his head in the room. "Andie?" he whispered.

"Is everything all right?"

He nodded, but I could still detect a slight unnerving posture to his confident stance. "Come out here a moment, will you?" And with a nod of his head, he closed the door behind him.

With a sigh of annoyance, I begin to crawl out from under the covers, but Jack's arms suddenly tighten around me. "Where are you going?" he murmurs sleepily.

I lean over his form in order to place a soothing kiss to his mouth. "Just need some fresh air," I tell him. "Go back to sleep, darling. I won't be gone long."

I wait until his breathing is slow and even once again before unwrapping his arms from about my hips and place another peck to his lips before slipping his discarded shirt over my head and creeping out the door of the captains quarters.

"We need to talk," Chester says the moment I see him.

"That's why I'm out here in the middle of the night, isn't it?" I reply. All right, so I admit it; I'm not in the greatest mood when I'm awaken before the sun. Jack and I were up half of the night anyway, pleasantly tiring one another out. I have an excuse to be bitchy, right? Of course I do. When a woman is tried, she's tired.

Chester gives me a stern look. "You need to be more careful."

Maybe it's my half-asleep state, but I am thoroughly confused. "More careful with what?"

"More careful about your duties and about yourself," he tells me. "I've warned you before about letting distractions get in your way. Especially Jack. The two of you are being so careless."

"Excuse me?" I reply, offended that he feels the need to remind me of morals. "Who are you to tell me I am being careless? You know nothing of Jack and I."

"I'm just telling you to once again be careful, Andie. If you miss a cycle..."

_Woah._ "Wait a moment, Chester," I say, holding up my hand. "Let's not jump to insane conclusions here."

"I'm warning you," he repeats.

"And you woke me up in the middle of the night to warn me about such things? Why?"

"I was going through some information," Chester begins. "Some journals and things I found in Stanley's room that he's collected on the curse, Athena's journals, facts and occurrences that have surfaced... Andie, if you are with child, the curse will not react kindly to it. Your body may not be able to handle the fight it will ignite. And the two of you have been anything but careful."

This is so much information to all be taken in at once. "Chester, I'm not with child, I assure you."

He gives me a somewhat sympathetic look. "Let's keep it that way."

"_I am aware now how everything's going to be fine  
__One day, too late, I'm in hell  
__I am prepared now  
__Seems everything's going to be fine  
__One day too late, just as well."  
_"**Fine Again" -Seether**

* * *

Oh, the drama! 

Review review review, please!

Thanks to all who reviewed: **Depps1andOnly, speak-to-the-waves, Queen.Bowie.Jack Sparrow.Lover, Wednesday, xJammie-Jessx, Genevra, mrsblonde1503, LoLoMo.**

VooDooJayne: Well, the thing about Kamella is, I brought her in to be both the good and bad person. More about her will be revealed later on.

Andie Anderson: Oh my God, that episode... I swear I drooled all over myself... I have a thing for the punk guys in the first place, but he just made it worse! With the spikey black hair and the eyes, and the leather jacket and the eyes, and the hair and the... sigh

Lyra Potter: Yes, Veronica Mars is amazing! Well, I've been watching it from the beginning so I've seen them all. I think I like Logan and Veronica better simply because they are more of the non compatible couple, more of a guilty pleasure. But Duncan and Veronica are cute too. Yeah, the second season is great; I miss Wallace!

Dreadlockedpencil: I love the quote! Maybe I'll use it sometime.


	15. Behind Closed Doors

**Chapter Fifteen**

"_**Death; the refuge, the solace, the best and kindliest and most prized friend and benefactor of the erring, the forsaken, the old and weary, and broken of heart."  
**__**-Mark Twain**_

I creep back into the cabin as quietly as possible, finding Jack still in the bed, sleeping peacefully, just as I had left him not five minutes earlier. Removing his shirt from my shoulders, I toss it to the floor at my feet without a thought before climbing back under the covers and into his arms. His skin is entirely warm and blissful against mine.

But instead of instantly falling back into my slumber, I lie in silence for a long while, just thinking about the words exchanged between Chester and I. He said Jack and I should be more careful. I do have to be honest with myself here; we haven't been the most responsible when it comes to being intimate. We want, we take. It's as simple as that.

When was my last cycle? Last month. We're safe there, at least. It should come again within the next week or so, I'm sure, and I can know for sure then. But wouldn't I know? I know my body, wouldn't I be able to tell if something strange was happening to it? If a child was growing inside of me? Yes, I would. And everything is perfectly fine. God damn Chester for worrying me like this.

He is paranoid, that much is true. He always has been. But what did he mean when he said that the curse would not react well if I was with child? Will I never be able to have children? _Stop worrying, Andie. What is wrong with you? You don't need to be having children anyway, with this lifestyle of yours. Or Jack's. A pirate ship is not place for a child._

Despite myself, my eyes begin to flutter and my weariness begins to take its toll. Jack would grin, he would be so proud and wearing me out in such a way. Wrapping my arm about his hips, I curl close to him and press my cheek to his chest. Soon enough, the constant rhythm of his heart and the heat of his skin pushes me over the edge and into a slightly discontent sleep.

In the dream, I am standing in a clean white room, wearing a white gown and the scent of spring lingering in the room. The window of the room is cracked open, the curtains lingering in the breeze. I am alone in the cold.

I swallow thickly, looking about the room. "Jack?" I call. My voice is somewhat weak, insecure. I'm scared.

Then, something sounds from the door across the room. A dull but loud thumping. The sound is constant, distracting. I blink at the door a moment, my eyes narrowed at the wood before I slowly move forward, my hand reaching out for the handle.

"Andie?" someone says from behind me, but there's something strange in the way they say it. I jump, turning around quickly to see Stanley standing across from me, his skin deathly pale and his eyes a dead blue. "What made you choose that name?" he asks.

I shrug, looking at him in astonishment. "I don't know. I just liked it."

He smiles, but something is different. It's not a warm smile, not friendly or inviting. It gives me chills. "He's waiting for you," Stanley complies.

"Who?" I ask, stepping away from him as he steps closer.

"The pirate."

"Jack?" I question, "Where is he?"

Stanley steps forward again, backing me up against the door behind me. The pounding continues from behind it, so much that my head begins to ache. "Stanley, you're scaring me," I tell him.

He leans forward, so close that I can feel the freezing temperature of his breath. "Good." Then, he takes a long moment to glance at the door before returning his attention back to me. "He's waiting for you." I cannot speak, I cannot move. I shiver as he touches me, his skin as cold as ice. "You're shaking, Andie."

Stanley reaches up and touches my cheek, and I'm amazed as I'm completely frozen, completely stunned. Something isn't right. "What's wrong with you?" I whisper.

He grins, nodding towards the door behind me. "You know what to do."

He backs away, watching me like a hawk as I turn, taking a step backward. My hands are trembling as I wrap my fingers around the handle, slowly swinging the door open.

...I nearly drop to my knees. There hangs the captain of the _Black Pearl_, his boots just inches from the floor and his libs hanging lifelessly. His legs _thump_ endless against the wood, a song of death as my hands fly to my mouth, covering my gasp of protest and horror.

Then, I awake in Jack's bed, utterly alone, the white sheet covering me like a shameful memory. The pirate captain is nowhere to be seen and Stanley is dead. And suddenly, I feel most freezing and alone.

I barely notice as the door to the captain's quarters cracks open, and someone steps inside. I don't even look up until I hear the sound of my name. It's Rodney, carrying a tray of water and bread as he kicks the door shut with his boot and stopping the stream of sunlight that spread across the covers and heats my skin.

"The cook told me to bring this in for when you awoke," Rodney tells me as he lays the try down on Jack's desk. "You've missed breakfast. It's well past noon."

Then, he looks over at me, sitting up in bed, holding the sheet to my chest with rigid fingers, my knees pressed against my chest and one hand tangled in my hair. My head is pounding.

"Andie?" he asks. "Are you all right?"

I look up. "What? Oh, yes, I'm fine. Just... just a nightmare."

He comes over and sits down beside me. "You're deathly pale," he says, and reaches out to touch my forehead with the back of his hand. "Jesus, you're freezing."

I close my eyes and lean against my knees, my head swarming and my stomach aching. I can still see that image of Jack behind my eyes, hanging by that rope, the _thump_ of his boots against the back of that door...

"Where's Jack?" I ask him quietly.

"At the helm," his blue eyes are watching me closely, his expression worried and... scared? "I'm going to fetch Jaden," he tells me, rising from the bed.

"No," I grab a hold of his arm, pulling him back down beside me. "No, don't get Jaden. I'm fine, Rodney. I'm fine." I'm pleading; pleading is something I am not accustomed to.

Rodney shakes his head at me. "Andie, you're not fine."

"Just a bad dream," I tell him. "Nothing strange. I'm fine, I promise you."

He's watching me strangely. "Maybe some sun will do you some good. Get some warmth back into your bones."

I nod and watch as he rises to his feet once more and walks thoughtfully to the door. "Rodney? Can we... can we just keep this between us? Don't want anyone to know that something so daft can shake me up. Might ruin my reputation, you know?" God, I am such a liar.

"Sure," he says, nodding. He still looks so worried and sympathetic. I hate it. "Just between us." Then, he leaves, once again leaving me to myself.

With trembling legs I climb out of bed and dress, my fingers feeling most weak as I do up the buttons and ties of my dress. What is wrong with me? _It was just a dream. Just a dream._ But the look in Stanley's eyes, the feel of his skin. _Death_.

The sun is warm as I open the door and step out onto the deck, but yet I still feel cold. I can't go to Jack, for he'll know something is wrong the moment he'd see me; what would I tell him? _I dreamt you were dead, my love, you had hung yourself just as Stanley had... _Christ, I couldn't tell him that. Besides, he would only tell me that it was just a dream, only a dream. That I have no reason to be so shaken up; and I would look at him and only see the white of his skin and the blue to his lips. And I can't deal with that right now.

Before my mind even registers, I am outside Jaden's door. And then, before I can tell myself that I could be possibly be making a mistake, be learning information that I do not want to know or that I do not want others to know, I am knocking on said door.

"Andie," Jaden says as he swings open the door, his brow creased as he takes a look at me. "Is everything all right?"

He leads me inside, and I ring my hands together, nervous as hell. When did I become this jittery? "How would I know if I was with child?" I ask abruptly.

Jaden's eyes go wide for a moment, but as soon as I notice it, the shock has reduced to simple surprise and concern. "Late menstrual cycle, larger appetite, nausea..." he begins. "Any of those signs pertain to you?"

I think about this. Hard. "No," I reply.

"Been more tired than normal?" Jaden continues.

Well, I have been somewhat tried latley, with Jack keeping me up half the night. Not that I've ever complained at the time, but... no. I haven't been more tired than normal. Actually, I'm quite used to being awake at night. I've never been a morning person. I've always liked the chill of the night.

I shake my head once more, releasing a most relieved breath. "Not really."

Jaden smiles at me. "Well, then it seems you have nothing to be worrying about, Andie. Just watch yourself." But that look in his eyes still continues. "Are you sure you're all right?"

I attempt to give him a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, Jaden."

He's watching me strangely. "You're looking a bit pale." He touches my cheek with the backs of his knuckles, his lips pressed into a thin line.

I sigh, finally giving up on hiding this. What's there to be ashamed of? "I just woke up. Nightmares," I tell him simply.

He nods. "That's normal after... well, after what's happened. After what you walked in on. I'm sorry about your friend, Andie."

I shrug, thinking about this. "Me too," I reply.

I find Chester sitting at the galley table as I push through the double doors only minutes later, his nose in a book and a bottle of ink and a pen lying beside a pad of paper. He's doing research. He's _always_ doing research. Sometimes I begin to think he's obsessed with it.

He doesn't look up as I walk past him to pour myself a glass of water, but notices as I take a seat across from him, his eyebrows raising. "I spoke with Jaden," I tell him. "I'm not with child."

Chester nods. I'm always surprised how young he looks, how boyish. He's older than me by a few years, for he's thirty-two years of age, but at times he only looks about nineteen, especially when he's so deep in thought. His blonde hair is short and spiky, tousled and his brow creased. You just want to pat him on the cheek and smile when you're around him. It's hard for me to be angry, all though his words from last night had roughed me up a bit.

"I'm glad," he says, but I doubt he's fully in the conversation.

"Did you hear what I just told you?" I comply. "Last night you seemed terrified at the thought of me pregnant. You gave me a lecture."

He clears his throat and touches his forehead with long fingertips. "I'm sorry, Andie, I just have a lot on my mind. Here," he says, "I want you to read something. It explains my actions for last night." Chester hands me a piece of parchment after slipping it from it's envelope.

"What is it?" I ask.

"Do you remember Fia Green?"

_Fia Green_, I consider. _Oh, yes_. Fia was from Portugal, a beautiful girl, my age, with big brown eyes and long brown hair. I met her in Paris four years ago while working with a charge in the center of the city; he was a painter, and she was involved with a man who lived in the flat next to him. What was his name again?

"Did she ever marry that Richard man?" I ask. _Richard... Richard Rigg? Yes, that's it._

She had run off with him while she was still so young, sixteen, if I recall right, and her family was very upset. She was holding the same Signs of Athena as I had, and was working with Chester when she met Richard. He convinced her to run off with him to London, which she had, and he traveled with her from country to country, city to city, with every charge she was assigned to.

Chester nods. "A year or two ago."

I think about this for a moment. "He still have that drinking problem?"

Their relationship was very strange. Fia and Richard loved eachother, that much was obvious, but when night came and he would have a few drinks, Richard wasn't Richard anymore. I can remember hearing the trouble he would be causing from the flat next door late at night, even while being busy with my own charge, making enough ruckus ourselves. There were several times when Fia would show up at the door, black and blue, her mouth or noise bleeding from his fists. She always blamed it on his drinking or herself, and I would make her stay all night until he would be sobered up enough that he wouldn't remember a thing in the morning. Their story is a very sad one.

"Yes, he's still drinking. Probably even more so now that Fia's gone."

"What?" I ask, wide eyed. "What's happened to her?"

Chester is very serious as he looks at me and says, "She was with child." When I don't say anything, he continues. "Richard wrote in the letter that a few weeks after she told him, she was complaining of pains in her stomach and vile cramping. The next day she was so weak that she could not crawl out of bed. Hours later she passed away."

Tis a sad and depressing story, no doubt, but I am confused as to what this would have to do with me. Problems with birthing and pregnancies happen all the time. "This is why you woke me in the middle of the night to warn me of such things? You were afraid the same would happen to me?" I question.

Chester shakes his head. "I know it will."

My eyes narrow at him. "How can you know something like that?"

"This was not some normal calamity, Andie," he tells me. "Fia's death was caused by the curse. If you are to be with child, the curse simply will not except it. It will dispose of it, and it's too much for one's body to take. And I know you've always had interest in the opposite sex, but you've always been careful. Now, I see so much has changed in you."

I can't help it, my hazel eyes roll at his words. "Why will no one let me forget that?"

"Kamella and I were discussing it, and we both agree that this relationship with Jack has gone too far. I know you care for him, Andie, and him for you, but you have a duty, and you seem to be forgetting that."

He and Kamella discussed this? So they think they have the right to decide something like this? Decide whether or not Jack and I should be together or not? _Well, then. Fuck duty._

I think about this for a good long moment before I raise to my feet. "Then I quit."

"_I've gotta stop my mind  
__Working overtime  
__It's driving me insane  
__It will not let me live  
__Always so negative  
__It's become my enemy.  
__Why would I think such things?  
__Crazy thoughts have quick wings  
__Gaining momentum fast  
__One minute I am fine  
__The next I've lost my mind  
__To a fake fantasy."  
_"_**Save Me" -Jem**_

* * *

I was reading some past chapters of this story and the first installment, and I was curious to ask what is everyone's favorite moment between Andie and Jack? Or, in the story itself. From _Fair_ or _Lady Fair_.

Anyway, sorry for the late update. I've been busy with school and work and life itself. I've also had a bit of writer's block and changed this chapter around two or three times until I felt I had it right.

Well, drop me a review and I will shower you in chocolate and kisses.

Thanks to the following for reviewing: **speak-to-the-waves**, **AJ-Sparrow**, **Alex**, **dreadlockedpencil**, **Sentinel Sparrow, lilyflower127.**

Ambiguous101: I wouldn't say Andie being pregnant would _ruin_ the story, I just think it would change things to a great extent. Whether it's for the good or bad, that's your choice.

Depps1AndOnly: More about the baby thing later. Hang tight, my dear :

Genevra: Haha, that would be interesting, Chester kidnaping Andie while she's only wearing a sheet. Well, you know how much I love Andie... I don't think I would be able to kill her off just yet, even if I tried. Even the thought of no Andie makes me cringe. She's almost a second voice in my head by now, haha.

Andie Anderson: Yep, Norma Jean is on the _Black Pearl_ somewhere, haha. I was going to fit her into this chapter, but I couldn't find a place to. She'll be in the next.


	16. Choices

**Chapter Sixteen**

"**When you have to make a choice and don't make it, that in itself is a choice."  
****-William James**

"Then I quit."

Chester stands, looking at me as though I am completely insane. And I am. I love my freedom, I love the travel, the lust, and most importantly, the fight. But what am I losing here? I'm living on the most infamous pirate ship of all time, with the most notorious pirate to ever sail the seas. I am not losing one god damn thing. If I don't do this, I will loose _him_. When I think about my future without him... well, it makes me cringe. One year without him was enough; it was hard and it was lonely and I was so angry and constantly depressed with the thought that I had let him get away... and I cannot let that happen again.

"Andie, you cannot quit something you have been prophesied to do," Chester tells me sternly.

I shrug. "So, I'm fired. Whatever. You can tell Benjamin that I was unable to do the job, that I wasn't getting anything done. My charges were getting killed, I was getting injured. Here, I'll write the letter for you!"

Chester shakes his head at me. "This isn't going to pull through. Benjamin has always respected you; honestly, you've always been his favorite. He's always told me how much he admires your spunk, your zest. You've always been given the roughest assignments and come out successfully. And then suddenly I'm firing you? He would fire _me_!"

"Then tell him I quit, Chester. You're making this a hell of a lot harder than it has to be," I comply.

"Dear Benjamin," he begins in thick sarcasm, "I know how much you love reading my reports on Ms. Andie Bryant, but she has decided to quit. To leave the fold. And this decision has been made because of a man. A pirate. She has fallen in love and gone completely soft. She no longer knows of the fight and has decided that she would rather sail the seven seas searching for the treasure of make believe instead of saving the innocents, of solving these strange cases that only few have the power of possessing. She's given up."

Before he can go on my fist is suddenly at his jaw, nearly knocking him off his feet. "You know none of that is true," I bite out at him. "I haven't lost the fight and I sure as hell haven't gone soft."

"Haven't you?" he replies, wiping the blood of his bottom lip. "Have you even thought about this, Andie? You used to love when I gave you a new assignment. You would go in, have a little fun, get the job done, and you'd be on a ship traveling to France or Spain a week later in order to complete the next one. Now you have no interest at all. You haven't even spoken of your duties since you've returned from your father's estate. And why? Because you've been too busy with the pirate. He's distracting you. He's changing you and now you have no sense of your priorities or your-"

This time, I hit him so hard that his feet knock over the chair behind him, his knees bending as he reaches to catch the wall behind him. I unsheathe my sword and it's at his chest before he can even blink. "Don't you dare blame this all on Jack," I tell him. "He hasn't changed me. He isn't at fault for my distractions. I've had a shitty year, all right? It's just taken me a while to get back into the fold."

"Too long," my boss says, and before I know it he has he sword at my throat, his eyes dark and cold.

I block his strike once, twice, backing up in order to give us the room we both need. I swing my sword at his feet as he jumps over the blade, reaching forward to strike my torso. But this isn't a difficult fight, I realize, for Chester has not much experience with a sword, and with one kick of my foot at his legs, my boss trips over a chair behind him and is on his back, my blade glimmering at his neck.

"Think twice about ever challenging me again," I bite out, throwing my sword down at the galley floor beside him. Then, I walk towards the door, finding it open and spotting Kamella and Jack both standing in the door frame. I push past them both, ignoring Kamella's pleas for me to come back and listening intently on Jack's silence.

The bad thing about living on a pirate ship is that you have no where to go when you want to be alone. Someone will always find you. Well, I decide, I will take that chance. So I reside now at the top of the eagles nest, my eyes closed and my knees pulled to my chest. My face is buried in my hands as I hear someone climbing the rope below, but I do not shed a tear. I'm too stubborn for that.

I look up to see Rodney climbing his way up to take a seat beside me, his brow creased and his blue eyes determined. "What do you want, Rodney?" I ask in annoyance.

"Look, I heard what happened, and I thought you'd need some company," he tells me. I give him a curious look, wondering how he heard so quickly, and he gives me a slight smile in return. "Word on the _Pearl_ travels fast."

I'm silent, for I don't feel like talking much, and this seems to make Rodney more comfortable. I bid him to go and leave me be silently with my eyes, but he does not seem to want to move. "For all it's worth," he tells me, "I think Chester is way out of line. You have changed, I will admit, but I wouldn't say for the worse or that you've lost sense of your priorities. I think you have just realized what is important to you. For all that time you never really had a home, Andie, and now you have Jack. The _Pearl_ is your family. It's not right for Chester to expect you to give all of this up just so you can travel from country to country with him in order to hunt the unnatural."

"He says it's my destiny," I explain.

"If it's your destiny," Rodney says with a smile, "Then the unnatural will come to you."

We're silent for a long moment and then my friend complies, "I know it's unfair to have to choose between the two, but I think you have no other choice here, Andie. And remember that, it is _your_ choice. Don't allow Kamella and Chester to make it for you."

888888

After the midday bell, I retreat down onto deck, finding Jack nowhere in sight. I walk thoughtfully and a bit hesitantly to the captain's quarters, knowing I'll find him here. And sure enough, I do. The moment I open the door I find him at his desk, sorting through some maps and a half full rum bottle beside him. This is normal, I know. Nothing to be curious or hesitant about.

He turns when he hears the sound of the door closing behind me, and he looks me up and down for a long moment. Then he turns back to the task at hand. "Was wondering when you'd come down from there."

"I just needed some time to think."

Jack nods, slowly. "I spoke with Kamella. She wants you to leave with them once we reach Port Royal."

I lower my eyes to my feet for a moment before looking up to meet them with his own. "And you?"

He swallows, his hands moving in the air for moment before he speaks, as though he is readying himself for something he is frightened to say. "Ye know what I want, Andie. But I also have to think about what is best for _ye_."

Suddenly, I feel a panic rush through my body. "You don't want me to stay here?"

"No, love, that's not it."

I narrow my eyes at him. "Then stop beating around the god damned bush, Jack!"

"Do ye want to hear a story?" he asks me with a hesitant smile.

I shook my head at him. "No."

But Jack goes on anyways with that cocky confidence of his. Even now, it still drives me up a wall. "I was in Tortuga one night about a year ago, outside the Faithful Bride. And I saw this woman," he began, a slight smile on his face and an interesting glint in his eye. "And immediately, I knew she was trouble."

"Jack, what does this have to do with-"

But yet he continued. "And when I spoke to her, she completely brushed me off. I'm _Captain Jack Sparrow_, love, not even a delicate flower would think of doing such a thing! Which of course drew my curiosity in even more. And then I saw her fight. Graceful, practiced moves. When I challenged her, she beat me. _Me. _Not a man in the Caribbean would dare challenge me, yet defeat me! It was then that I knew I had to know her weaknesses. I had to bring her to her knees. And when I did... it wasn't enough. I had to do it again, I had to have more. And then when I realized it wasn't just the physical side of her that I craved... it was too late."

I closed my eyes for a short moment before opening them again. "What are you saying, Jack?"

"Do ye need me?"

I'm quiet for a long moment. Then, I nod. He comes closer, suddenly grabbing me roughly by the arms and looking into my eyes, his fingers holding my flesh at an almost bruising grip. "Yes or no?"

I inhale a trembling breath. "Yes."

Then suddenly his lips are crushing mine, his kiss rough and demanding. I whimper into his mouth, my hand reaching up to touch his cheek, to spread my fingers over the skin. And just as quickly as it happened I'm being slammed into the wall behind me, Jack's hands tearing at my clothes and his hips pressed harshly into mine.

Those practiced lips release mine in order to nip down my neck, to whisper huskily into my ear as his hands wander my waist, my backside, my thighs. I lean my head back, my back arching into those rough caresses against my own will. He knows my body so well, knows how to tantalize and tease me without even trying.

"It's an addiction," he groans into my ear. "Like a drug, like a leech," one hand sneaks below my blood red skirts, wandering and gliding over soft, smooth skin. I take a deep breath, closing my eyes as they reach the apex of my thighs. "And even when ye were gone all that time," he says, "I was still addicted. At first, ye were all I thought about, all I dreamt of. It was like ye were a ghost. And then my obsession was forgetting ye, not to think or remember anything about ye. And when Loyal contacted me, telling me to come for ye, it only made it worse. I gave myself no other choice."

Jack Sparrow tears the front of my bodice, too impatient to worry with buttons and pointless ribbons. "Do I want ye to leave? Do I want to feed that addiction and then cut myself off completely?"

He pulls the fabric of my dress over a creamy white shoulder, his teeth and lips nipping and caressing the skin. Impatient with my own lusts and desires, I grind my lower half hard against his, eliciting a deep roar from the pirate's throat and an animalistic bite to my throat.

"Think of what you'll be missing," I manage to bite out between kisses.

I move my hips against his again and suddenly he's lifting me up and without a thought I wrap my legs about his waist, his mouth harsh against mine. And then I'm sitting on the surface of his desk and Jack is sliding maps and things off the wood without even a glance. Those rough hands are on my thighs, tracing soft skin, his fingers lingering longer on that particular scar he seems to always heed more and more attention to. I feel so drunk at this moment, so dazed that my head feels heavy and my stomach tight. I pull at his hips by grabbing his belt, unfastening the buckle and pushing impatiently at his britches. I need more friction, more skin, more heat.

And then, at exactly the wrong time, a knock at the door interrupts us. "Captain?"

Jack leans forward, practically collapsing as his weight presses flush against me, his face burned in my hair. His breath sends a chill up my spine and over my skin. "What is it?" he manages to growl.

"Port Royal is in sight." A female voice replies. AnaMaria.

Jack's hands tighten around my waist and on my thigh. "Remind me to kill her for this," he tells me, lifting his head to look me in the eyes.

Jack swallows, closing his eyes for a moment. We're both breathing hard, forcing ourselves to calm down. It's not really working. He opens those deep brown orbs again, leaning forward to grant me a frustrated, carnal kiss before parting to safely fasten his belt and tighten the sash about his wasit a bit tighter and lower than usual. Once the task is completed he distracts me from pulling down my skirts and re-buttoning the bodice of my dress, kissing me much more gentler, as if he is apologizing.

"Bloody wench." And with that, the captain of the _Black Pearl_ grabs his hat and waltzes out the door.

"_The sounds of this small town make my ears hurt  
__Oh yeah, you caught me. But I caught you way worse  
__They say, 'You want a war, you got a war.'  
__But who are you fighting for?  
__The tides out, the ships run aground  
__We drown traitors in shallow water."  
_"**Champagne For My Real Friends, Real Pain For My Sham Friends" -Fall Out Boy**

* * *

Not much of an authors note this time, but thanks to all the reviewers and readers and I'll try and get the next chapter up as soon as possible. Hope you all have a nice holiday if I don't update by then (I most likely will). 

Love you all: **Miya Sparrow, Lyra Potter, Depps1AndOnly, Renajah, Andie Anderson, Speak-to-the-waves,****VooDooJayneSmith, Istani, LoLoMo, Scarlette, SacredBliss.**


	17. Young & Reckless

**Chapter Seventeen**

"**_Beauty is unbearable, drives us to despair, offering us for a minute the glimpse of an eternity that we should like to stretch out over the whole of time."  
_**_**-Albert Camus**_

I could leave. I could stay. Leave. Stay. There are not many choices of which I have to choose from. But I'm doing my best to dance my way around the situation; there has to be a way that Jack and I can stay together, but I can still do my job, or fulfill my destiny, as Chester would say. God, that sounds so false, as though it was read from a fairy tale of some kind. It sounds like one of those novels written about Captain Jack Sparrow and the _Black Pearl_.

And then, something comes to me. What if we both separated for only a time, enough that I can take care of a charge or two and Jack can chase his treasure and cause his trouble far in the azure waters of the Caribbean sea? It could work, I suppose. It would be best for us, I think. The aspiration would stay alive, in a way, as I've feared many a time that it could not. Jack and I are so hot and heavy almost constantly that at times I believe it not to be true, that I know it could and perhaps would end at any minute. What if things got boring? What if we grew tired of each other? It's strange to think about, but it could happen. All though with Jack and my lives, it's not very probable. But what I fear, is growing to despise him. I fear that some day, some night, I will realize that this pirate knows me too well, knows not every freckle on my body and every secret hidden deep within my chest. It honestly scares me.

Taking another drag from the small brown cigarette between my fingers, I watch from the back deck as Port Royal grows closer, the buildings and people in sight. I have been to so many countries, cities and towns, but yet I have never visited this one. I'm not sure if I am happy or sad about this bit of information.

Suddenly someone is standing beside me, their stance mirroring mine as their elbows lean against the side of the _Pearl_, their face looking out to sea. I turn to see Kamella, her light brown hair pulled back into a loose braid and her face as pretty as a picture. "Are you angry with me?" she asks. She always has this tendency of making herself sound so chaste, so innocent. But I know better.

"Angry is a bit of an understatement," I reply, taking another drag from my cigarette. The smoke goes through my longues smooth and deep, calming my nerves and giving me a slight high that I really need right now.

"You shouldn't be," she says. "I'm only looking out for you."

"Looking out for me?" I repeat with a slight laugh. "Is that so. Then tell me, oh wise one, what harm is this ship doing me? What harm is Jack doing me? Is it too much for me to be content?"

She smiles at me. "With the way the two of you are shagging like rabbits, I'd say it's hazardous to your health."

I sigh and turn back to the ocean, inhaling another puff of smoke and exhaling through my nose. The smoke floods before me like a toxic puff of poison. Sometimes I wish it really was, and then maybe I could drop to the floorboards at this very moment and not have to deal with any of this. I wouldn't have to have any of these conversations that I'm really not looking forward to having. The ground could swallow me whole for all I care.

"Look at you. You're too serious. Smile a little, won't you? You say you're so happy, and yet I rarely see you smile anymore."

"You rarely see me smile because whenever you're around me you are constantly pounding me about Jack or how I've changed and how much you dislike my new life. Kamella, what do you expect me to do? Thank you?" I snap. She's trying to get back on my good side, I know. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, has always been her philosophy. The worst part? I don't even know where I fall anymore.

"You know why Chester is being so paranoid don't you? One of the gypsies saw something, Andie," Kamella complies. "She saw you with child. Do you know what that would do, Andie? The entire fold would be a mess. And that's if you survived. It's not looking good, either; Chester doesn't think it would be possible, with the power of the curse and all. It would kill the child and then you before you could even blink."

I shake my head at her. "But I'm not with child. I talked to Jaden. I don't even have any of the symptoms."

"Yet."

"I swear, Kamella, you are just as bad as Chester!"

She narrows her blue eyes at me. "He is just protecting you, Andie, can't you see that? He doesn't want to loose you! And neither do I." I look away, tossing the butt of my cigarette into the waters below, but I stay silent. I don't know what to say to something like that. "He figures keeping you away from Jack will eliminate the problem. No child, no death. And the fight this morning in the galley was just a test. I know part of you is still in there. You just have to realize that."

I brush past her, finally having enough. "I am so fed up with this horse shit."

But before I can get five feet away she is pulling me back, and when I attempt to shrug off her hand, she strikes me hard in the face. I reel around, paying her the same favor, giving her a look of disbelief. "Is this what you are resorting to now?"

"What, are you to moral and mature for a feud now?" Kamella questions. "This is how we used to solve all of our problems. Remember?"

And as I think back on it, she's right. When the two of us first started training, a good old fashioned fight is how we used to eliminate tension and nerves. The only bad thing about it is, once we get started, we can't stop. Chester and Stanley have had to pull us off each other on more than one occasion.

She hits me again, but I know she is just trying to rile me up. And as I feel a warm trickle of blood on my bottom lip, I know it's working. I've never had much patience or a very calm temper. My fist is at her face in a split second, her head reeling back a bit as she stumbles and struggles to keep her balance.

Kamella reaches up, grinning when she tastes her own blood on her tongue. "That's my girl," she nearly purrs.

I swallow, shaking my head at her. "I'm not doing this, Kamella."

"You're only angry because you know Chester and I are right. You'll get bored, Andie, I know you like the back of my hand. You'll thirst for the fight and for the chaos. You'll regret staying here with him."

Perhaps she's right. Perhaps I would feel the need for the pandemonium of my life, of the line I am to keep so balanced out. But then again, maybe it wouldn't matter. Jack lives with just as much rebellion and bedlam as I did before this past year. Would it be the same? The time I spent with my family in England on my father's estate I nearly went inside with boredom. My father had security doubled and I eventually gave up on the thought of leaving. I couldn't even leave the house without them being paranoid I would off. They were right, the thought was always on my mind, but it annoyed me none the less. The point is, I need the chaos and the passion and the freedom of life. Without it, I wouldn't survive. But the _Black Pearl_ and her captain are all apart of that now.

"What the hell do you want from me?" I demand.

"I want you to come back into the fold. I want you to leave with us once we leave Port Royal. Chester is already looking for new assignments for the both of us. Or he was before your dramatic display this morning in the galley, anyway."

I narrow my eyes at her. "I'll think about it, all right?"

She shakes her head at me. "Not good enough."

"You can't just expect me to up and leave here, Mel!" I exclaim.

"Why not?" she replies. "That's what we do, isn't it?"

888888

He is the most stubborn man I have ever met. I don't think he is capable of telling me how he truly feels. He's too proud, I suppose. After all, he_ is _a man. "If that's what you want, Andie."

"Jack," I say, rolling my eyes, "I want to know what _you_ want."

"It's not my life you're living," he argues.

"Can't you help me out here just a little bit? That's all I'm asking. I need to know."

Jack Sparrow touches my leg, gently, those russet brown eyes burning into my insides. If it wasn't for those eyes I could just lie to him, I could just leave. But if I lied to him, told him I didn't love him and I didn't want to be with him... he would see right through me. I would collapse under the pressure, as I have many times with him and just give in to my temptations. And that's what he is: pure temptation. Without him I could join Chester and Kamella and return to my life and everything would be so much easier.

"It's not my decision," he tells me finally.

If only he would swallow his stubborn pride and numerous masks and ask me to stay with him. And if he did so? I would stay in an instant. I groan, dragging my hand down my face. "Sometimes I really want to castrate you."

He makes a hissing noise through his teeth. "Is this really the time for such words? Besides, what use would I be to ye, then? Besides me inevitable intelligence and wit, of course."

"You're impossible," I tell him.

And then I feel his lips on my neck and my stomach flutters as it always does when his flesh comes into a heated contact with mine. "Improbable, my love." It's now that I remember the sight of him in my dream, his flesh cold and white and dead. A cold chill runs down my spine as those gold teeth reach that spot behind my ear, that spot that he knows drives me absolutely insane. "We never finished," he explains, recalling our time together in his cabin an hour or so ago. My eyes close as I recall the way I felt, flushed and hot as he lowered me onto his desk, his maps and ink crashing to the floor. He cared about nothing but me in that moment, and I cared about nothing but him. It's what really seduced me in the first place; he makes me forget.

"Not here, Jack," I argue, remembering the lookout crew are still aboard the ship, and we are sitting at the helm. Everyone else has already rowed into town, ordered to stay low and not start any trouble. Jack is not very liked on this island, I hear. He, of course, thinks he's everyone's favorite guest.

"Why not, love?" he breathes, his fingers moving towards the ties of my bodice. "No one will see us. Besides," he says, his eyes rasing to mine as his mouth pulls up into a roguish grin. "I've made love to you up here before. Remember?" His voice is so persuasive. "In the rain."

I cannot help but smile. The action is small, gentle, all though I tell myself not to do so, not to drive him further. "I remember," I admit, but I stop his hands from going any further. "I wish you wouldn't do this, Jack. You always do this."

"Do what?" he asks innocently.

"Seduce me when I bring up something you do not wish to discuss."

The pirate sighs, sliding his hands down to my waist and looking away. After a moment of an obvious quarrel inside his beaded head, his eyes meet my hazel ones. "Chester told me this would come up. Even when we found Stanley in that inn," he looks a bit hesitant as he says this, unsure how I will react to his mentioning it. So that is what they were discussing there. "He told me you would have to leave. It's not meant to be; our lives coincide."

We're both silent for a moment. Finally, I say, "You want me to leave?"

He swallows. "It'll be better for ye in the end."

My eyes lock on my hands in my lap, soft and white, unlike his, which are rough and dark, sun kissed from the hot Caribbean sun. We are so different but so much alike at the very same time. "Why do I feel as though you are lying to me right now?" I ask suddenly.

Jack wraps those strong arms about my waist, sliding me close to him and burying his face in my neck. No seduction, no wanton kisses, just the need to feel. "I told ye, darling, I don't _want_ ye to go anywhere. But sometimes I fear what is best for you."

"_This_ is best for me," I tell him. "What happened to all the things you said the other night? That you loved me, that you wouldn't let anyone have or hurt me? What happened?"

"I meant it," the pirate says. "Honestly, love, I did. Your leaving with Chester won't mean we'll be apart forever."

My brow creases at this. What is he saying? "Elaborate, please."

"We'll keep in touch. Meet at a Port in between your missions."

I sigh. "You make it sound much simpler than it is."

But Jack continues. "Chester and Kamella will be a problem, of course. But they won't have to know," he says with a grin. "We're used to the secrets, anyway." And it's true. It was a while before his crew even knew about us in the beginning. And than there's the scenario at my father's estate, with Jack climbing through my window at night and sneaking into my room during the day without my fiancé even knowing. We both loved it. The danger, the passion, the transgression... it was everything the both of us lived for. "It's our only choice," he adds, a bit sorrowful. The most sorrowful Jack Sparrow can sound, anyway.

I nod. "All right."

He smiles at me and grabs me close for a hopeful kiss.

"_I know you have a heavy heart, I can feel it when we kiss  
__So many men stronger than me have thrown their backs out trying to lift it  
__But me, I'm not a gamble you can count on me to split  
__The love I sell you in the evening by the morning won't exist.  
__You're looking skinny like a model with your eyes all painted black  
__You just keep going to the bathroom always say you'll be right back  
__Well, it takes one to know one, kid, I think you got it bad  
__But what's so easy in the evening by the morning is such a drag."  
_"**Lua" -Bright Eyes**

* * *

Short chapter, I know, but I feel this is where it needs to end, on a hopeful note. 

Thanks so much to all my reviewers! 215 reviews so far! Very nice Christmas present, I must say. I hope everyone has a nice Holiday.

**AJ-Sparrow**, **Miya Sparrow, VooDooJayneSmith, alonefreehearted, tarapandie, Depps1AndOnly, Scarlette, Renajah, dreadlockedpencil.**


	18. Welcome to Port Royal

**Chapter Eighteen**

"_**No one ever choked to death swallowing his pride."  
**__**-Unknown**_

"Andie Bryant. You're the young woman everyone is speaking about."

I raise an eyebrow at this, pausing as the man, about my age, bends to take my hand into his grasp and place a polite and chaste kiss to my hand in greeting. The man is a friend of Jack's, a blacksmith. He is a breath of fresh air on the tight and stuffy island of Port Royal.

"Speaking about me?" I reply. "What are they saying?"

He smiles and nods towards the pirate standing next to me. "That Jack Sparrow has a new playmate. One that is proving to be just as much trouble as he is."

I raise an eyebrow, instantly interested in this. "Trouble?"

Jack laughs. "Aren't you used to that by now? The first night I met you Chester went on about you being too much for me to handle."

"No," I say with a smile. "I still like to hear about it from time to time."

Will Turner laughs. "You sure are a friend of Jack's, that's for certain."

"See? You love to hear about yourself just as much as I do. Especially the bad and uncivilized things," I add.

"Hmm," Jack says, taking a thoughtful drink from the bottle of rum in his hand and taking a seat next to the hearth. "Tis true."

I try not to frown at the expression on his face. It's a mask. He and I are trying to be happy, to be friendly and _ourselves_ but I see right through him, although I'm sure Will doesn't. He's unhappy, or confused, or possibly just melancholy. I don't want to leave and I fear he _does_ want me too, and it appears to me that Jack can't make up his mind. Or maybe I'm taking this all wrong. Perhaps Jack does not want me away from him just as much as I do not want to be. I see the weariness in his dark eyes.

"How long has it been, Jack?" Will asks. "A year?"

He shrugs. "Give or take."

"Elizabeth is going to maim you, I hope you know."

"Ah yes," Jack replies with a grin. "I know, mate."

And then, as though his words struck the trigger, a woman's voice echoes from down the hall. "Will? Please tell me that is not Jack Sparrow's voice I hear!"

Said pirate nearly cringes at her words. "_Captain_!" he corrects. "_Captain_ Jack Sparrow."

Footsteps sound upon the hard wood floor before a beautiful young woman with golden hair and sparkling eyes appears at the doorway of the parlor. "Do you realize it's been a year since you've last been here? We were starting to think you were rotting away in a prison somewhere!"

Despite her peevish words, Jack grins. "Hello, Elizabeth."

She smiles as Will presses a kiss to her cheek as he walks past and doesn't say a word as she pulls Jack into a friendly hug. He tenses for a moment, for he has never been a man for hugs, but then relaxes. "How have you been, Jack?" she asks him as she pulls away. Then, she looks over and see me, a friendly smile instantly lighting her face. "Who's this you've brought with you?"

The captain of the Black Pearl grins that infamous smile as he grabs me by the hand and pulls me in front of him, hands on my waist. "Andie Bryant, meet Elizabeth Turner."

She smiles kindly. "I've heard tales of the two of you."

"Word sure gets out fast," I decide.

"Indeed," Jack agrees, signaling towards the kitchen. "Will, you have guests! Bring out the rum!"

William, in the other room, chuckles at his friend's addiction. "We don't have any, Jack."

"Don't have any rum? How do you survive?" the pirate demands.

"Healthy and soberly," Elizabeth replies and hold out an expensive-looking glass. "But we have wine."

Jack thinks about this for a long moment before declaring: "I'll take what I can get." He takes the bottle from her other hand, sniffing it's contents with a frown, but takes a large gulp besides it's lack of high alcohol. I shake my head at him, but say nothing. I'll never understand his love for rum.

"I'll let Mary know we have house guests," Elizabeth says, smiling at me. Then, she glances at Jack with his soiled clothes and dirty fingernails. "And for her to prepare a bath. I'm sure you haven't seen a bar of soap since you've last been here, Jack."

He raises a hand in argument. "Elizabeth, love, that's not necessary."

She walks over to him, grabbing his sleeve with a confident manner and raising it to his eyes. It's smeared with dirt here and there and it's past white color has faded to a dark cream. "Oh, yes it is," she replies. She sure has spunk for looking like such a lady.

Will laughs, a friendly and warm sound. "You're out of luck, mate."

"Mary," Elizabeth calls as a young woman dressed in a green dress and white apron walks by. She has dark hair and innocent, brown eyes. "Would you mind preparing two baths for Captain Sparrow and Miss Bryant?"

"Don't trouble yerself, Elizabeth, one tub is perfectly fine," Jack tries to tell her one last time, a look in those eyes that tells me he's up to something.

I have to laugh at the expression on Elizabeth's face as she silently tells him to give up. I wouldn't be surprised if she grew up as a duchess, as I did. I am the same way, always wanting things to go my way, although they never do. That probably comes from being so spoiled as a child.

"You are being scrubbed from head to toe whether you like it or not," she tells him.

Jack grins, exposing those mysterious gold teeth. "Aye, but I'm not doing the scrubbing meself, and I'm sure Will here won't be comfortable with ye doin' it, love."

She raises an eyebrow at him. "What are you saying, Jack?"

I chuckle from my place beside her, knowing exactly what he is suggesting. Jack is wanting _me_ to do the scrubbing, although I'm sure he doesn't exactly have scrubbing or washing of any kind on that tainted mind of his. Suddenly realizing this as she glances at me, the blush on Elizabeth's face grows from the square cut bust of her dress to her cheekbones.

There's something about Jack Sparrow and a female company that makes everyone around us know that we are more than just mild acquaintances. Jack doesn't have to flash a large sign at them for the two to assume he and I are _involved_, I should say. And somehow, he does anyway. _Men!_

"Still so modest, I see," the captain of the _Black Pearl_ comments as he smirks at her. "Will _still_ hasn't taken care of that? I told you he was a eunuch from the beginning, didn't I?" he sighs, shaking his head at her. "I warned you, Elizabeth."

Fifteen minutes later, Jack and I are making ourselves comfortable in one of the many guest rooms in the Turner's household. The pirate falls back on the bed, his legs hanging over the side and his arms folded behind his beaded head.

"Did you have to point it out to them so bluntly? I just met them for Christ's sake." I remark.

Jack doesn't even open his eyes as he replies, "Point what out to them?"

"That we're sleeping together."

A smile captures his lips. "I never once said that, love."

I roll my eyes. "You suggested it. Quite heavily, in fact."

Jack shrugs, kicking his boots off lazily without even lifting a hand. "It slipped," he replies.

I take a seat next to him, gazing down at his handsome face. I sigh, something weighing down like an anchor on my chest. I'll be leaving him soon; again. "Jack, what are we doing?"

"We're relaxing," he replies, wrapping strong arms around my waist and pulling me down atop of him.

I brace my elbows on either side of his head, looking down at him with a frown. "No, I mean, what are we _doing_?" I nuzzle his neck with an unhappy sigh, affectionately running my fingertips down the side of his jaw. I hesitate before speaking, but somehow I manage to push the words out in a whisper. "Things will go back to the way they were before, you know."

Jack pulls me back in order to gaze into my hazel eyes. "What?"

"We'll get lonely," I say honestly. "You'll drink too much and pay for female company, and I'll try and fill those empty spaces by spending the night with the first good looking man who buys me drink. Our lives will go back to the way they were before."

Jack shakes his head at me. "No. No, Andie, that won't happen."

"Are you telling me that you didn't bed every wench who threw herself at you during this past year?" I ask, a bit harshly.

He knows that the very moment that lie slips out from between his lips, I'll catch it. I'll know if he's telling me the truth or not. Because I know him. And most importantly, I relate to him. "Just the ones who didn't have a chance of reminding me of ye," he replies with a flash of bitterness himself.

Jack watches my reaction for a long moment. I had expected him to agree with my statement, but I hadn't expected that. I slip myself out of his arms, settling myself beside him. I don't want to be held right now.

Rough fingers reach out, grabbing a hold of my chin and forcing me to look at him once again. "You're not so innocent either, love. I know you weren't abstinent for an entire year; who were they? Guards? Mates of Loyal's? The stableboy?" Jack nearly hisses.

Why did I bring this up again? I can't remember, but I sure regret it now. I should have known he would turn it around on me like this. "You make me sound like some common whore."

"Ye brought it up," he says. "I want to know."

"There was only one," I bite back at him.

He doesn't look surprised. "Who was he?" he asks in a nonchalant voice. But I know he cares. And he knows that I care about his own escapades, whether or not he goes on and on with excuses.

I know this is going to hurt. The worst part? I hope it does. "Anson Beck."

Jack's jaw instantly hardens, and his eyes darken to a near black color. "Yer lying," he tells me.

"I wish I was," I reply, lowering myself so my feet are once again on the floor. I need to get out of here.

Jack grabs me by the arm, stopping me just before I reach the door. "Ye slept with Anson?"

"Yes."

He's quiet for a moment. "Why?"

"I had too much to drink," I tell him honestly. "I don't even remember it. I didn't realize it until the morning after, when I awoke with an identifiable pain between my legs and his hat sitting on the vanity."

"That's why ye hated him," Jack says thoughtfully.

"Well, I'm not really fond of being taken advantage of by a man who I wasn't exactly keen on in the first place."

Suddenly the pirate wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me close to him, burying his face in my neck. "Why didn't ye tell me?"

I'm rigid for a very long moment, but then he drags those fingers down my spine in a comforting gesture, and I nearly melt against him. "It's not something I'm exactly proud of, Jack."

"And ye think I'm proud of all the women I've paid for at all those ports?" he shakes his head at me with a faint sigh. "Ye only told me this to piss me off."

I smile gently at him. "Did it work?"

He tries not to smile, but I see a ghost of one slyly pull at his lips. "Aye, it worked."

His wandering hands at my waist caress curves over the skirts of my dress, gently coaxing. "I'm not sorry," I tell him honestly.

Those eyes wander over my face, gazing into my own for a long, unwavering moment. He nods, but does not say any more about it.

And then, a knock sounds upon the door. Jack looks up at the sound, his eyes moving towards the door behind us. "Time to get clean, darling," he says with a small smile.

Only Jack can take a serious conversion, yell and accuse one moment, and make me smile the next. I don't know how he does it or why I allow him to.

"_Live a life less ordinary  
Live a life extraordinary with me  
Live a life less sedentary  
Live a life evolutionary with me  
Well I hate to be a bother,  
But it's you and there's no other, I do believe  
You can call me naive but...  
I know me very well, at least as far as I can tell  
And I know what I need."  
_"**Live a life less ordinary" -Carbon Leaf**

* * *

Not much of an author's note, just saying happy New Year's to everyone, and hoping you all had a wonderful holiday. Thanks to those who sent myspace messages or e-mails. Love you all. 

Thanks to the following for reviewing: **alonefreehearted, tarapandie, renajah, voodoojaynesmith, depps1andonly, miya sparrow, sentinel sparrow, Andie Anderson, Sol Inferno, dreadlockedpencil, **&** genevra.**


	19. Contentment

**Chapter Nineteen**

"_**You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience by which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along."  
**__**-Eleanor Roosevelt**_

I gaze among the steam as it rises from the hot water in the tub as Jack and I enter the washroom, my bones longing to dive right into the mist. It's been so long since I've last had a bath; my wedding day it was, in fact.

I thank Mary, the Turner's servant, as she smiles and exits the room. She's a chaste and shy young girl who doesn't meet Jack's eyes, I suppose in fear of blushing at the information he shared with everyone downstairs. He will not be taking this bath alone, and this place is no Tortuga. It is not proper for Jack and I to be doing such things considering we have not been wed, and yet Will and Elizabeth did not say a word. The couple does not seem to be the prim and proper people that I assumed they would be.

Jack's voice rips me from my reverie. "Ye know what we need, darling?"

I raise an eyebrow, toeing off my shoes. "What do we need?"

He smirks. "A bottle of wine. It's not rum, of course, but it'll have to do. I know where Will keeps the goods."

I shake my head at him. "You're shameless, Jack Sparrow."

Said infamous pirate leans forward, pressing a kiss gingerly to the side of my neck and his right hand moves to my shoulder, slipping his fingertips beneath the red fabric of my dress. "Why don't ye," he begins, trailing his lips further down my neck, "Rid yourself of this pesky clothing and slide into that water, and I'll join you in a moment, hmm?"

I look up under heavy black lashes to gaze at him. "Don't get ahead of yourself," I warn.

Jack grins. "Do I ever?"

"All the time," I quip honestly.

He chuckles, backing up towards the doorway, his hands moving in the air as he speaks. "Nonsense, darling." And with that, he winks, and closes the door shut behind him.

I turn back to the bathtub with a frown. And although my head is crammed full with thoughts and doubts and hopes, my clothes start falling to the floor at my feet. I shouldn't be doing this, I tell myself. I should tell Jack that it's over right now and I'm leaving. But what good would that do? I don't _want_ to leave. I'm just trying to run away from my problems. I don't want to say goodbye to him when we are like this. It would be so much easier to leave while hating him than... well, than feeling for him the way I do now. But we'll see each other soon, right? We will stay together, he told me. We'll see each other, although in secret, between missions and treasure and...

This is not going to work.

But my doubts all seem to melt away as I step into the hot water, my muscles instantly softening and my skin warming as I settle myself into the tub, my black hair sticking to my back and my shoulders and breasts as they absorb the water. I sigh, stretching my legs out and letting my body relax. Ah, so this is it; contentment.

I'm not sure how long I bask for, but the next thing I know, the door to the washroom is creaking open again. I open my hazel eyes to peer over at the door, finding Jack leaning against the doorframe, looking as handsome as ever with a sly grin on his face and a bottle of port in one hand.

"Is there something you want?" I ask him sarcastically.

That grin never falters. "There is, in fact," he replies, taking a few steps closer and dragging those irises over my form with warm, passionate eyes. "Somethin' I want very much."

He hands the bottle to me as he pulls his shirt over his head, revealing his tanned chest to the warm air and to my sight. I busy myself with opening the bottle of port, not because I'm modest but because I do not want to find myself gawking. His britches and other clothing and effects hit the floor beside my own before he steps into the water before me, releasing his own groan of contentment as he settles with his back against the other side of the tub.

I take a long drink of the port, allowing the alcohol to run, or rather burn, down my throat and pool in my stomach. Jack grabs at the bottle before I take too long of a drink, his precious drink on the line. I don't necessarily like to, but I can be just as heavy of a drinker as he can, all though it's not the title that he fears losing, but the content itself. It's mildly entertaining, in fact.

"Give it here, love."

"So impatient," I murmur, handing him the bottle.

He takes it from my fingers calmly, raising his eyebrows at me. "Who's impatient?"

"You are," I tell him as he takes a small sip, trying to prove me wrong. I cock my head at him a bit, giving him a stern look. He gives up with a shrug, losing that innocent expression as he tilts his head back, downing a good portion of the bottle. "You're worse than I am."

Jack sets the bottle on the floor beside the tub. "Come here," he tells me, leaning forward to wrap long fingers around my ankles and gliding me across the tub to him. I help arrange myself so my knees are on either side of his thighs as he wraps arms about my waist. He places kisses along my collar, his beard pleasantly tickling my pale skin.

But I suppose I'm not responding the way he expects me to, because he begins speaking against my neck as his fingers roam about my stomach. "Something wrong, Andie?"

I sigh, not able to shake off this strange mood I am in. "What do you think of me, Jack?"

"Ye know how I feel about ye," he replies with that smoky voice, his hands going still on my skin. He senses a topic he does not wish to converse about. "Yer intelligent," he places a kiss upon my chest with every word, "mysterious... clever... beautiful..."

I stop him by slightly moving away from his caresses, placing my hand on his chest. "Not how you _feel_ about me, Sparrow. What do you _think_ of me?" I correct.

His eyes go from confused to realization within a matter of seconds. "Is this about what I said before?" he asks.

Why, yes. Yes it is. It's about how he asked who I slept with why he and I were apart this past year; guards, friends of Loyal's? I'm not some wench who sleeps with everyone she meets, but he sure as hell made me feel that way. Does he think of me as such?

I don't even have to respond for him to release a heavy sigh, his gaze falling to my abdomen. He traces my navel with two fingers, lightly stroking the skin in an affectionate gesture. "Just angry words, Andie. They don't mean anythin', ye know that." When I don't reply, he looks up at me with dark eyes and pulls me flush against him, his palms flat on my shoulder blades as he holds me close in the steaming water.

What reason do I have not to believe him? I've said many things to him myself that I didn't mean. Anger is something that captures your mind and body, like a blackout, and disables you from thinking before you act. It's not something that can always be so easily explained, but I am not looking forward to hearing any other answer. This response satisfies me, in a way, and I will just leave it at that.

"If yer anyone's wench, love, yer Jack Sparrow's wench. Savvy?"

A small smile creeps over my lips, even when I try to deny it. "Savvy," I reply as his lips gently brush mine, sealing his silent apology with a kiss.

Jack grins up at me as his hands began wandering pleasantly, tickling and roaming my skin. He gives me goose bumps. "Do ye want to play a game?"

I settle myself more comfortably in his lap, sitting more so than kneeling on either side of his hips. A purring sounds escapes his throat, his fingers tightening their grip on my skin. "What kind of game?" I ask him with a mischievous glint in my eye.

"We both ask one question," Jack explains. "And afterwards, we agree never to discuss our pasts again. Do we have an accord?"

I think about this for a moment. I've always loathed talking of my family, of my life as a duchess, as well as my life as a criminal and miscreant after I had run away from England those six years ago. I loathe thinking about it. This is what I've always wanted; right? I take Jack's outstretched hand, shaking it in agreement.

"I'd say ladies first, but I am anything but gentlemanly..." the pirate trails off with a grin, those gold teeth glinting at me slyly.

"By all means," I tell him, having absolutely no problem with his more outlandish and rebellious nature. In all actuality, I prefer it.

He takes a cloth from a table standing beside the ivory tub before motioning to me with a bejeweled finger to turn around. I lean forward to nip his bottom nip with my teeth before I do as he tells me, sitting between his knees.

I lean slightly forward as he runs the soaked cloth down my spine. I can feel his hot breath against my white skin as he leans forward to kiss a drop of water from my flesh. Those fingers trace the lines of the detailed tattoo covering my shoulder blades. "Where are these wings from, darling? There has to be a story of some kind behind them."

I sigh as those palms run up my sides, fingertips barely grazing the undersides of my breasts before moving down again. "I was in Paris," I began to explain, "And I was staying with this painter in his loft. He asked if he could paint me, and I was not reluctant to agree."

"Why do all of yer stories never fail to stab me in the side?" Jack interrupts.

I smile and turn to glance at him over my damp shoulder. "Jealous yet?"

He returns the smile with one of his own. "Not yet. Keep going."

I turn back around, reaching out to trace the ruffles in the water with my fingertips. "In the painting, I was kneeling over a grave in a cemetery. But what I really found interesting were the dark wings opened out behind me."

Jack chuckles. "It seems the man and I had the same thoughts when meeting you."

"Jack, you called me a creature from Hell!" I argue.

He reaches out with a ringed finger. "Ah, but a _black-winged_ creature from Hell, love."

I roll my eyes at him, although I can't fight the small smile at my lips. "Well, the point of the matter is, I liked it so much I asked him to draw them on permanently."

Jack's fingertips are tracing the outlines of the tattoo, his breath close to my skin. "Why did he paint you in a cemetery?"

I'm quiet for a long moment, most thoughtful. "He said my gift wasn't life, but death."

The pirate swallows, nodding slightly. "The curse."

Not able to take it any longer, I turn around once more in the water to face him. "I don't want to return to that life, Jack. I don't want to feel so... lifeless."

He pulls me closer, his hands warm on my cooling arms. "It's yer choice, Andie. If ye want to stay, stay."

"And if it were your destiny?" I ask him.

He sighs, looking away from me. "It's not."

I reach out, putting my palm to the side of his face and making him look at me. "Don't do that, Jack. Don't dance around my questions or-"

"This curse is not going to just disappear because yer here with me and not off in India or some strange place fighting monsters," Jack explains, his hands animated in the thick air. "It's always going to be there, haunting ye, in a way. Yer trying to forget it, Andie, and yer not going to."

I'm silenced by his words. Not because I am angry or I am offended, but because he is right. The curse has yet to be a problem as of yet, but Jack and I have only been together again a few months. Even while in England the curse had not stopped. Little signs of it would show up here and there, and I would try my best to ignore them. But Jack is right; I _can't_ ignore them, for they will always be there.

"I didn't tell ye," he began again, "But the first week ye were aboard the _Pearl_, AnaMaria informed me that she had found dozens of snakes in the galley while lookin' for a box of misplaced cargo. A week later, Jaden found a crow locked inside the artillery hold."

I think about this a moment . "Signs of evil," I say. "Why didn't you tell me?"

His palms trail gently up my back, his moustache rough on the skin of my shoulder. "It upsets ye."

He's right, it does upset me. It always has. I suppose I just don't enjoy finding signs of bad luck and evil around me constantly. Suck things make me feel like a crawling spider or something scary and disgusting that people are afraid of. I don't want to be like that.

"Do you remember when we first met?" I say suddenly. "You were completely sceptic. You thought I was crazy."

But Jack shakes his head at me. "I didn't think ye were crazy. I was too busy trying to figure you out."

I smile. "You mean trying to figure out a way to get me into your bed."

He grins that mischievous smile, his hands wandering pleasantly over my thighs. "Aye, that too."

I laugh, leaning forward to gently press his lips to mine. "I thought you were quite the scallywag."

"But an incredibly good looking scallywag?"

Feeling most flirtatious, I shake my head at him, although we both know it's a lie. I disliked Jack from the very beginning, it's true, but I was very much attracted to him. That was the only spark at the beginning. It's strange, how we've ended up here like this now.

"Liar."

I smile and laugh at his response. "You're the most conceded man I have ever met."

"Aye," Jack replies, his mouth close to mine. "And ye enjoy it."

His breath is distracting against my lips. "Do I, now?"

He places a kiss just below my bottom lip, my chin, my neck as those hands slide over my stomach in such an unbearable, teasing way. "A confident woman needs a confident man."

"_Oh, all the days that I have run  
I sought to lose that cloud that's blacking out the sun  
My train will come, some one day soon  
And when it comes I'll ride it bound from night to noon."  
_"**Looking at the world from the bottom of a well" -Mike Doughty**

* * *

Not too much to say right now except I have a lot of caffeine in my system and I am completely off the wall hyper.

Updates: Another new Jack Sparrow fanfiction of mine is now posted at Opportune Moment dot net.

Thanks to the following for reviews: **voodoojaynesmith**, **Renajah, Andie Anderson, Sentinel Sparrow, Genevra, Sol Inferno, alonefreehearted, dreadlockedpencil, depps1andonly, doctress, and PandylBas. **


	20. Never Say Regret

**Chapter Twenty**

"_**Don't walk in front of me, I may not follow. Don't walk behind me, I may not lead. Just walk beside me and be my friend."  
**__**-Albert Camus**_

Captain Jack Sparrow is difficult. He's so worried about his roughish and rough exterior, his reputation as the most feared man in the Caribbean that he has a fit about a simple washing. He hasn't even lifted a finger; I've been the one doing all the work!

He's doing his best to distract me with heated kisses and roaming fingers. "Sit still, Jack," I tell him with a slight laugh as I drag the cloth down his chest. "You're such a pain in the ass."

"Darling," the pirate tries to argue, "If ye don't stop that right now, I'll be forced to take revenge in such a way that you'll not be able to walk for a week!"

I raise an eyebrow at this. "Doesn't sound too bad. Just be sure to take said revenge _after_ I'm finished washing this dirt from your skin."

Jack grumbles in defeat, finally giving up as his protests grow silent and his body relaxes. My fingers sink into his wet hair, scratching his neck and scalp until his eyes fall shut, a deep purr mumbled against my shoulder. "That wasn't so hard," I decide.

Torso clean and arms still with signs of suds, I lean back to take a look at my work. Jack cracks open one eye, curious as to why my fingertips have ceased their scratching. Those chocolate eyes roam over my form, that talented tongue darting out to quickly wet his lips in thought. "When is it yer turn?"

I smile, leaning against his drawn up knee as I reach over to grab the bar of soap. "As soon as I'm finished with you," I comment, lathering the cloth up once more before continuing to wash his legs.

"I feel clean, love," he tells me, "In fact, I feel _too_ clean."

"One can never be too clean, pirate," I tell him in response. "Turn around. I need to get your back."

He gives me a look of warning, his eyebrows raised at _my_ giving _him_ orders. None the less, he still does as I tell him. Grinning slyly, I start by scrubbing his neck and moving slowly down his shoulder blades. "Look at this," I say. "Captain Sparrow taking orders from a woman!"

"Only a soaking wet woman in her starkies," he replies, reaching back to wrap fingers about my leg and pulling me so my legs are wrapped securely around him. I press a kiss to his neck, just behind his ear, sighing happily as his caresses are gentle and relaxing on my thigh.

Jack leans back against me with a slight hum in his throat. "Where do ye think you'll go next?" he asks gently.

I think about this for a moment. "I don't know. Belgium?"

He chuckles, and I feel every relaxed vibration from his chest on my own body. "Why would ye go to Belgium?"

"I've never been there," I explain. "It sounds as though it's an interesting place to be."

"Singapore. Now _that's_ an interesting place to be, love."

I smile. "With all the stories I've heard, it sounds interesting indeed."

He thinks about his suggestion for a moment and then inhales deeply, a frown pulling his mouth downward. "On second thought, maybe ye should stay as far away as possible from that place. Tis not safe, it isn't."

Knowing his thoughts exactly, I drag the cloth lazily up to his shoulder blades and down to his lower back before repeating the process. "Not safe from what, exactly?" I question him with a smile.

"The opposite sex!" Jack exclaims. "I won't deal with that, Andie. Yer best to stay away from any men all together, from Singapore or no."

I laugh. "You're a man, Sparrow. Am I to stray from you as well?"

Said pirate grins that famous grin at me over his shoulder. "All but me. I am an exception to the rule."

"How so?"

He turns around in the tub in order to pull me close to him. The moment he has me in his arms his lips are on mine, kissing me breathless and tasting me in such a perfect way that my toes curl and I forget our conversation all together. "Savvy?" is his only response.

I smile at him. "Savvy." He grins and leans forward to kiss me again, gently. "You know," I say, "I still haven't gotten to ask my question."

"What question?" He pulls me closer, sliding my hair away from my shoulders and breasts so he can pepper my skin with kisses.

I laugh as his beard tickles my flesh and lean back a ways from him. "My question," I remind him. "You said the both of us could ask the other one question and we would never speak of such things again. I never got to ask mine."

"Ye asked yours," he replies, but he doesn't look sincere.

I shake my head at him. "No, I didn't."

Finally, he gives in. "Fine. What's your question?"

I think about this for a moment. "I don't know yet."

He laughs. "Ye never cease to amaze me. One moment, ye banter me about not letting ye ask your question, and when it comes down to it, ye don't even have a question!"

"It's the principle of the thing!"

"Well, come on. Let's have it," Jack presses.

"It's hard to think of one when all I know about your past I've read in books. You never speak of your family or before the _Pearl_, or..."

His hands are warm and welcome as they drag lazily up and down my back. "Ye don't bring up your past much either, Andie."

"But my past keeps _showing up_," I remind him. "And yours still remains to be a mystery."

His eyes follow his fingertips as they trace my abdomen before trailing back over soft curves and delicate skin before meeting mine again. "And I'd like to keep it that way."

"Hey," I say, poking him stubbornly in the chest. "This was _your_ game."

He sighs. "Fine, fine."

I watch him for a long moment, contemplating the best question to ask him. Then, with fingers tangled in his wet beaded hair and eyes searching his many scars, it comes to me. "How did you come to be a pirate?"

"Mmm," he murmurs, leaning back against his side of the tub. He pulls me with him, hands wandering and lips pressed in thought. "Always dreamt of going out to sea when I was a lad, darling. Always wanted the _freedom_ of the sea and being the wretch that I am now. Ye do what ye want, ye take what ye want. Me father was a pirate, and I'd heard all the stories about him and his ship. I wanted to be just like him."

"You hadn't met him?"

Jack shakes his head. "No. But I wanted to go out there and find him." Then, he smiles, although his thoughts seem far away. "And when I had my chance, I joined a crew and learned everything there was to know."

"Did you ever find him?" I ask curiously.

The Captain of the _Black Pearl_ grins at me in the most mischievous of ways, pulling me close and murmuring against my lips. "That, my love, is another story for another time."

"Promise?" I smile.

He kisses me. "I promise. Now hand me that cloth, it's yer turn to get washed until yer skin turns raw."

88888

I take a look at myself in the mirror. My skin is slightly golden from my days spent on the _Pearl_ and my cheeks and nose dotted with freckles. My hair is still the darkest of ebony and straight as a rail, flowing gracefully to my mid-back. The corset about my waist hugs and dramatizes my body's curves, pushing up my bust and tricking the eye into seeing a thin, hourglass figure. The violet dress I am wearing is stunning with it's lace lining and it's low cut collar. The worst part is, being dressed is such a way is reminding me most of my life back in England.

Suddenly, strong arms wrap about my waist from behind and pull me back against a safe and secure chest, familiar lips pressing adoringly to the skin of my exposed neck. "Ready for dinner, darling?"

I nod as Jack gives me a smile in the reflection of the mirror before turning to take a seat at the edge of the bed in order to pull on and lace up his boots. The coal is scrubbed away from his eyes due to our bath, once again reminding me of the last time I was at home. He had come back for me, dressed as a gentleman and ready to sweep me off my pinned down feet.

"Andie?" I look up, turning around to give him a reassuring smile. "Yer doin' it again," Jack tells me.

"Doing what?"

He finishes lacing up his boot and settles his foot next to the other, leaning his elbows on his knees and leaning forward slightly to get a good look at me. "Thinkin' too much."

I turn back to the mirror, patiently taking pieces of my hair and doing my best to start a decent braid. "How do you know I was thinking at all?"

Jack smiles at me. "Because ye always get this far away look in yer eyes."

I don't say anything, just continue with pulling new pieces back and braiding them in with the others. My hair is so thick and long so it sometimes is a bit more difficult than it looks. A maid who worked in my father's home when I was younger had taught me to do such a thing, and I remember working for hours to get it right. My father constantly had company over and I constantly had to look my best. When I was a young girl I had tried so hard to please him. When it was never good enough, I eventually gave up.

Jack raises an eyebrow at me. "What's in that pretty head of yours?" He always asks me this. It makes me smile to know that he actually cares, that he really wants to _know_ what I'm thinking about.

"England," I reply. "My father."

He's quiet for a long moment. It's not often that either of us bring this up. "Do ye miss him?"

I shrug, finally finished messing with my hair. "Sometimes."

"Do ye ever wonder what it would be like if ye hadn't left?"

"Yes," I admit.

"Do ye ever regr-"

_Regret._ I quickly place a finger to his lips, silencing him before he can finish his sentence. "Hush," I tell the pirate captain. "Don't even dare think it."

He looks at me straightforward, and I recognize the determined look in his russet eyes. He's not going to let this go until he's entirely convinced. "Look me in the eyes and tell me ye don't regret leaving with me. Tell me that ye don't miss that life, your family, even that bastard I tore ye away from. Tell me ye haven't regretted it, even for a moment."

"I thought we agreed to never speak of such things again?"

Jack is silent, but that intense look in his eyes says enough.

Knowing I could never lie to him, not without failing horribly, I look him straight into those dark russet eyes, just as he had said. I don't even bother to breathe. "There are times when I think you'd be better off without me, and I better off without you. Everything with us, with our lives, our pasts, is so complicated-" Jack looks away from me, his jaw set and his dark eyes cold. I put my fingers to the side of his face and force him to look at me, for I am not finished speaking. Not even close. Even when my lips are closed, no sound coming from my throat, I will never be finished with this subject. "I don't regret a thing. Not a goddamned thing. Not even in those moments of doubt."

Then suddenly he's kissing me, his hands crushing my body to his. And I can't recall ever being so happy and heartbroken in my entire life. Every time he touches me, every kiss, every night we make love. . . I know it was all worth it.

88888

If there's one thing I know about this pirate of mine, it's that he never knows when to control himself or when to behave. I turn to give him a look of warning, raising an eyebrow at the mischievous look in his eyes and the ever wandering hand on my thigh. I reach down and place my hand on his, stopping his teasing caresses, but this only seems to press him farther. Maybe it's the wretched pirate in him, but Jack Sparrow can never resist in bringing out my wild side.

"Behave yourself," I manage to tell him with a wicked smile of my own, being sure that Will and Elizabeth Turner and paying no mind to our side of the table. Elizabeth is speaking to one of the servants about something or another, and Will seems to be, well, chuckling at us. It seems my warning has not gone unnoticed as I had hoped. And yet Will does not say a word.

Jack slides his hand from my leg in order to snatch his wine glass from the table top, taking a drink while watching me with that domineering gaze of his. This is a game, and it would appear to him that he has won by that smirk lifting his lips. I roll my eyes, but allow him to rest his stilled palm back on my crossed legs once more.

"Jack," Elizabeth says as she gives us a relaxed smile and takes her seat across the table. "I assume things on the _Black Pearl_ are going well? Getting yourself into trouble, I'm sure."

Every time there is a mentioning of Jack's beloved ship, his chest nearly swells with pride and he gets that vigor look in his brown eyes. That ship is truly the love of his life. "Aye, lots of trouble," he concludes with a grin.

The sound of footsteps interrupts the casual conversation as we look up to see Rodney, the Turner's butler showing him the way. Elizabeth and Will had invited him to dinner and they both smile and comment they are glad to see he could make it. But all I can concentrate on is his disheveled appearance and a strange look in his azure irises. He greets both Jack and I before taking a seat at the end of the table to my left, but he does not meet my gaze.

"Watch crew is on alert, Captain," he says to Jack.

"Ah, splendid," is the response, and Jack takes another drink of wine as his fingers are thoughtfully kneading my thigh once more. "Chester took the dog?"

Rodney shakes his head. "He left her for Andie to take."

Elizabeth raises an eyebrow. "You, Jack Sparrow, have a dog?"

For reasons I don't know, Jack absolutely loathes animals. I've never asked him why, but I'm sure it will come up someday. He made a deal with Chester that Norma Jean could come out of his cabin every once in a while to get some fresh air, until she left Jack a present next to the helm. After that, Norma Jean was to be locked up in Chester's cabin at all times. I think Jack's dislike of animals is humorous and voiced my opinion so by laughing when he nearly stepped in the waste on deck, but he was anything but amused. He said it would have been unfortunate for Norma Jean if he _had_ stepped in it, and took out his pistol to show me exactly what he would have done. I told him he was a black-hearted wretch and lead Norma Jean back below deck so she was not to anger him even more. She has grown on me, believe it or not.

"Course not, 'Lizabeth. I hate bloody animals."

"She's mine," I admit. "Sort of. Belonged to a friend of mine who recently passed away." I found this harder to say than I would have figured. Stanley's passed on. Stanley's dead. It's easier to say in my head than to voice out loud.

"I'm sorry," Elizabeth tells me. She's sweet, she really is, but it doesn't mean she understands. People always apologize when something such as death affects another person. But are they _really_ sorry? I give her a small smile in reply. What else can I do?

"I suppose the monkey did it for you, then?" Will asks Jack.

"William," Jack says in a slightly irritated tone, "If ye weren't a eunuch before, yer going to be one in a moment."

A plate of food is placed before me on the table, next to finely made silverware and my nearly empty glass of wine. "You had a monkey?" I ask Jack, confused by this conversation.

"_Barbossa_ had the monkey," he corrects me, giving the servant that quick twitch of a smile he seems to use so often. I know the name Barbossa from the stories I have read about the _Black Pearl_ and Jack before I had ever met him. He never speaks of Barbossa or the mutiny that took place before the bastard took over his beloved _Pearl._. I suppose it's a sore subject.

"And Jack has finally promoted you to first mate," Elizabeth smiles at Rodney. "I was about to do it myself, it took him so long."

Rodney laughs and scratches the back of his neck as though he is embarrassed. He was never good with compliments or attention. But as he lowers that calloused hand back to the table in order to pick up his fork, I notice something marring the tanned skin of his neck; a small bruise that can only be there from one thing with one person.

"Rodney, can I have a word?" I question sternly, signaling out towards the hall.

He gives me a suspicious but most guilty look. "Sure."

Jack raises an eyebrow at me. "We'll be right back," I smile at them, pressing my hand to Rodney's shoulders and leading him out of the dining room. The moment we are away from the others, I give him a little push to show him I mean business.

"What the hell is this?" I snap, moving his collar to make my point.

He takes a step back away from me and adjusts his shirt. "What?"

I roll my eyes at his feigned innocence. "You slept with Kamella, didn't you?"

That guilty look remains, although he is trying so hard to hide it. "No, Andie, I didn't-"

"Don't lie to me, Rodney."

He watches me for a moment and then releases a deep sigh, allowing his shoulders to slump in defeat. "All right," he admits. "I slept with Kamella."

I'm quiet at first, trying not to get angry as I lower my hazel eyes down to my shoes and then back to him again. "I can't believe you."

He narrows those bright eyes at me. "What does it matter to you?"

"Because you're my best friend!" I exclaim. Then, I take a breath, unsure whether or not I should admit what I'm about to. What the hell, I've never been known to hold back before; "And you deserve better."

"That's nice," he comments. "Does Kamella know you think so low of her? She's your friend as well, last time I checked."

"I work with her, it doesn't mean she's a friend. And yes, she knows. She and I haven't really held back when it comes to our feelings about each other," I explain.

"So that's what this is about? You and Kamella aren't getting along and now you're jealous?"

I scoff. "I'm not _jealous_, Rodney. You don't understand."

He shrugs. "Then explain it to me."

"She only slept with you because she knows it would piss me off!" I tell him. "Your close to me and she knows that her seducing you would get under my skin. And guess what? It worked!"

But Rodney does not looked convinced. "Why do you always assume she's out to get you?"

"You don't know Kamella," I say. "She's sneaky, and two-faced and she'll stab you in the back the first chance she has as long as she gets exactly what she wants. She'll manipulate you, and I don't want that to happen."

He shakes his head at me. "You're paranoid."

"Am I?" I reply. "And what exactly do you feel for Kamella, Rodney? You don't know her very well. You only just met, in fact."

"Don't patronize me. I don't have to be in love with someone in order to have sex with them, Andie. Aren't you the one who explained that concept to me?" And he's right. So long ago he had persisted that Jack was in love with me and I him. But I had only shook my head, in complete denial, insisting that Jack's and my relationship was only a physical one.

Now it's my turn to narrow my eyes most dangerously at him. "You're not the kind of man to go and sleep with any vixen he sees, Rodney. I thought you were more than that. What changed?"

I have never seen him get so worked up over anything. He looks away from me, his body language showing exhaustion. "Nothing changed. Look, Andie, I'm sorry I have needs myself, all right? I'm sorry I can't be perfect."

"I don't expect you to be perfect, Rodney. I just don't want you to get hurt."

"I won't get hurt. You know why? Because I don't feel anything for her. Anything at all," he explains. And he doesn't seem ashamed to admit it.

My brow furrows slightly in confusion. "Then why did you sleep with her?" I ask.

He pushes past me and starts back down the hall. "Let's just forget it, all right? I'm finished discussing this."

And so I let it drop. What else can I do? But if there's one thing I know, it's that there's more to this situation. And I don't care what the hell it is, I'll get to the bottom of it.

"_There is nothing left to say to you  
__That you want to hear, t__hat you want to know  
__I think I should go, t__he things I've done are way too shameful_.  
_You're just innocent,a__ helpless victim of a spider's web  
__And I'm an insect, __I'm going after anything I can get."  
_"**Tangled" -Maroon 5**

* * *

Yay, an update! I'm really happy with this chapter and I feel things are really starting to pick up again. Sometimes I feel I'm not getting out what I want to say, but I have to admit that I am pretty satisfied with this chapter.

Thanks for all the reviews. I always love and need all the feedback I can get. It's like a drug.

Much love to: **Sacred Wolf, Sandragon, VooDooJayneSmith, alonefreehearted, Depps1andOnly, Renajah, genevra, dreadlockedpencil, Andie Anderson, maybethedreamisdreamingus.**


	21. Give Her Hell

**_Note:_** This chapter is why this story is rated R. Please take the necessary precautions. However, if you would like to skip said part of the chapter, just skip over the ending.

**Chapter Twenty-One**

"_**Home is not where you live, but where they understand you."  
**__**-Christian Morganstern **_

I'm gathering my clothing into a folded pile as strong arms wrap about my waist, a soft kiss pressed to my hair and a rough beard tickling the skin of my shoulder. "Ye want to tell me what that was all about at dinner?" that familiar, husky voice says in my ear.

I sigh, continuing with my packing. I know he's talking about the situation with my pulling Rodney out of the room and not returning until five minutes later where the two of us were both suspiciously quiet. "Not really," I reply.

"Andie," Jack says in a deep warning tone, telling me he's not in the mood to play games.

"What?"

He turns me around to look at me straight in the eyes, a hard glance that nearly makes me spill my guts to him completely. With the way he makes me feel so exposed with those eyes, I swear he can see right through me, through my clothing, everything. It's unnerving. "I hate when you look at me like that," I tell him.

"What happened with Rodney?" he presses.

I sigh, narrowing my eyes. "He slept with Kamella, all right?"

The pirate raises an eyebrow. "And this bothers ye?"

"Yes, it bothers me. She's not interested in Rodney, Jack, she only did that because she knows I would find out and it would get under my skin."

"Then why are ye lettin' her win, love?" Jack says. He makes it all sound so simple.

I turn away from him, clearly frustrated as I continue to stuff my clothing into my bag. I will be leaving soon and I'm trying to get done as much packing as possible. This is hard, of course, when we are staying with Will and Elizabeth still and most of my things are back on the _Pearl_. But every time I mention anything about packing around Jack, he grows suspiciously quiet and tries his best to steer me away from it. I can tell it makes him unhappy to see my things be separated from his, but after all, we will be separated soon enough.

"I'm not letting her _win_," I argue. "What do you expect me to do?"

His hands reach out to rest on my hips, those lips pressing to my neck. The contact sends a shiver down my spine, but I try my best and not show him how he affects me; I don't know why Jack and I still play these games, trying to convince each other that we aren't shaken by each other. I suppose we still aren't used to the fact that falling in love was simpler than either of us had ever imagined. It had slipped out from beneath us and crawled under our skin before we had even known it. Love is tricky like that.

Then suddenly, there is a knock at the door. Jack sighs into my hair before turning to pull it open, an eyebrow raised at who is on the other side. There stands Kamella in all her 5'7 glory, light brown curls hanging down over the shoulders of her dress. The fabric is a beautiful powder blue that makes her eyes sparkle. And Rodney thinks she's jealous of _me_? What has she to be jealous of? She's just as appealing as myself, if not more, all though it annoys me to admit it.

She smiles at Jack in this tempting way that makes me want to tear her throat out, before turning to glance at me. "Chester is downstairs. He wants to speak with you."

I look at her, my eyes narrowed and glowing with a kind of emotion that I've never felt before. What is this? Jealousy? No. No, it can't be jealousy. What is there to be jealous of? After all, _I'm_ with Jack, aren't I? Not her. Kamella hasn't even touched him. But yet that way she is looking at him...

"Fine," I say. I look at Jack, who is the picture of all that is cool and mellowed out. He doesn't seem to notice that this woman is standing right before us with 'Jack Sparrow, shag me!' practically tabooed across her forehead.

As I slip past the doorway and begin walking down the hall, I almost turn back with the awareness that Kamella had not followed me out of the room. But then, reminding myself that I trust Jack and that Chester is watching me from the bottom of the stairs, I don't. She wouldn't try messing with me here, in the middle of Will and Elizabeth's home, would she? Yes, she would, a voice says in the back of my head. If she even touches him I swear I'll...

"Andie," Chester says.

I scowl at him. "What are you doing here, Chester?"

He waves a folder at me. "Your mission. You cannot just-"

"I'll do it," I interrupt him.

He looks more than surprised at how easy this was. I suppose he assumed I would put up more of a fight than that. And I would have, too, if Jack hadn't gone all parental on me. He said that this would be better for me. That I can't just turn my back on the curse and try to forget about it; it'll haunt me, he said. Why does he always have to be right?

"Well, then," Chester clears his throat, extending his hand with the envelope. I take it, despite my unhappiness of doing this. "You're off to Spain. Get packing, your ship leaves two mornings from now."

_Two mornings_? As in two days? Two days left here in the Caribbean? Two days left with Jack. My heart sinks in my chest, a chill running down my spine. I suddenly feel very cold. _I can do this_, I say silently to myself. _You're a grown woman. You've done this hundreds of times before. Why does a pirate have to change that?_

"All right," I say, gazing at the paper in my hand. I turn on my heel, beginning to climb back up the stairs when Chester says my name, so lightly but yet so heavy at the very same time. I turn back around, gazing mildly at him.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I just..." but he can't seem to push it out.

I shrug as though it was all nothing. It wasn't nothing, of course, but I can't stay angry forever. "I'm sorry for kicking your ass," I say with a small smile.

He laughs. "You're forgiven." And with that, he takes a step toward the front door of the turner household. He peers around the corner with curious eyes, only to nod at someone I cannot see, thanks to the wall between the two rooms. "Thank you, Mr. Turner." And with that, he leaves.

So Will had been listening this entire time? As though he is answering my question, he steps out from the parlor and into my sight. "Spain?" he asks.

I nod. "Apparently so."

"What do you do, exactly, Ms. Bryant?"

I smile at his curiosity. "That is for me to know and for you to find out."

He doesn't say anything more as I turn and begin walking back up the stairs, but I do hear his footsteps on the floor boards as he walks away, shaking his head at my mysterious nature. It probably wouldn't have hurt to tell him, but normally when a person is told that I deal with paranormal activity and hunt out the bad guys in life, they do not understand. Or they do not believe me, which is the most common response. I don't blame them. If I met someone and they told me their job was to keep a balance between all good and evil, I wouldn't believe them either.

Besides, I can't just go around telling everyone about my job or about this curse that has forced me to do such things. It could put them in danger. And now, after what happened to Iva and Stanley, and what Chester has told me about Athena's temple and her fortunes, I could very much put myself in danger as well. But I'm used to that. You would think Danger is my middle name.

When I reach to the guest room Jack and I have been sharing, I frown to see the door closed. When I had left, it had been wide open. Why would they close the door? And more importantly, why would Jack allow Kamella to enclose herself in a room alone with him?

He doesn't understand, I remind myself. He doesn't know how spiteful Kamella can be or the thoughts running through her head. She's angry with me, I know, for she thinks I have abandoned her and my duties. She thinks I am this completely different person who is giving up her entire life for a handsome man and fuzzy feelings. She wants her friend back, and I can understand and forgive her for that. But for giving Jack lusty glances and locking herself in a bedroom with him? For that I am not so forgiving.

The door opens with a click, but I do not see anything I had expected to see. Kamella is sitting on the edge of the bed with that look still in her eyes, but Jack stood across the room, leaning casually against the window as a hand pushed aside the curtain.

"There ye are, darling," Jack says to me. _Me,_ I want to point out to her. He calls _me_ darling, not her. He calls _me_ love and sleeps with _me_ every night and ruffles _my_ hair in the morning. He loves _me_, not her. So why can't I shake off this jealousy and just let things be? Why do I have to be so stupid and selfish for wanting him only for myself?

Kamella looks at the envelops as I toss it onto the table next to Jack. "So you are leaving after all?"

"It would look that way," I reply. I can only imagine that predatory look in my eyes.

"Well," she says, standing. "When are you leaving?"

I wish she would just go away and jump off a cliff, or something. Gee, what a friend I am. "Look Kamella," I say. "I'm not really in the mood to talk business right now, all right? Or at all, for that matter."

She raises her palms in defense. "Whatever." But before she leaves, she turns back to glance at Jack, smiling at him over her shoulder. "Bye, Jack."

I nearly jump at her through the door. If it wasn't for that latch snapping into place, I would have torn her apart by now. "What the hell," I say, "is up with that?"

Jack smiles at me. "Ye know, love, ye can't just go around and flog every woman who looks at me."

"She is not every woman," I argue, "She is supposed to be my friend. And besides, just _looking _at you was not even on her mind."

He reaches out with a bejeweled hand to trace the neckline of my dress with a long finger. "Are ye jealous?" Jack asks with a grin.

I snort. "What am I supposed to be? Happy that she looks ready to pounce on you at every passing moment?

"Andie," Jack says in that deep, dominant voice of his. "I'm not interested in Kamella." He wraps those arms around my waist and pulls me closer, his warmth nearly swallowing me whole.

"Good thing," I say, "Otherwise I would be forced to kick some major ass. And it wouldn't be pretty, either. Petty girl fights are not my expertise, but I'm-"

He cuts me off with a kiss. And I'm not talking about just a simple peck, either. No, this was a delicious, toe curling kiss that nearly made my knees weak. "I'm not interested in Kamella," he repeats as he releases my lips. "Savvy?"

I gaze up at him. "Savvy."

"Good," the pirate says, patting my backside gently with his palm. "Now, what say you to a tour of ol' Port Royal given by yers truly?"

I smile. "I thought Elizabeth told you not to leave the house? Something about a James Norrington wanting your neck in a noose?"

Jack shakes this off with a flick of his wrist. "That means nothing, love. 'Lizabeth clearly said not to get _caught_ while away from the house."

88888

I would be getting a very nice detailed tour of said island, if only Jack would just keep his hands and mouth to himself. "Jack," I sigh as he presses me against the wall behind me with his weight, one hand at my hip and the other tracing my stomach from outside the confines of my dress. "We can't do this here."

The alley way we are standing in is abandoned, of course, but I can't shake off this feeling of paranoia. Jack is a wanted man on this island, and at the moment we are putting ourselves not only at the utmost exposure but in a easy way to get caught. This isn't Tortuga, he needs to keep in mind, where the people are drinking and passing out in the streets and fornicating wherever they see fit. Have I mentioned lately how much I dislike that island? I will never understand a pirate's fascination with it. I suppose it is a male thing.

But Jack is too distracted with his lips covering mine to even reply to my comment. I try to push him away, try denying his kiss in order to prove that we shouldn't be doing this here. Elizabeth warned us about being caught, and she hadn't even mentioned what is obviously on Jack's mind. But his mouth is so warm against mine, moving with such swift heat and want that I cannot help but clutch fistfuls of his shirt in my hands beneath his blue coat, pulling him closer although there is not an inch of space left between us. He feels so good against me that I cannot pull away.

The pirate groans against my lips, his hands roaming wherever they see fit. He seems to forget where he is, and in turn, so do I. I forget that I'm supposed to be a lady with curls and full skirts and chastity and all that. I always forget. Really, it's no wonder that I was not destined to be like any other woman, their only purpose to take care of her husband and bare his children. I was made for so much more than that.

His hands move to grasp my wrists, pressing them back against the stone wall behind me. He's stopping me from resisting what we have, from what he wants to do to me right here and now. I only manage to gasp as his lips move from my own to my jaw simultaneously with the movement of his hips. My head feels light and my want heavy.

I can hear my own shallow breathing, my own mewling at his caresses as I try to move my hands. Jack doesn't release me. I say his name in his ear, trying to keep my voice low and my tone anything but husky. My attempts do nothing to cease this, however. "I want to feel you," I say. I expect him to oblige, to release his hold on my wrists, but he does nothing but press against me more.

Before I know it those hands are beneath my skirts and he's moving inside me, my lids tightly closed in an attempt to calm myself. It doesn't work. My lips part as my head lolls back, a soft moan unable to be kept inside me. Jack is trying his best to control himself as well, I can see as I glance up at him, his jaw set tight and his eyes closed. It's a sin, I realize, how beautiful this man truly is as I gaze up at his long, dark lashes and defiant cheek bones. He's even more irresistible with the layers of dirt scrubbed from his skin. Not that it made much a difference before, however.

His movements are slow at first, as though he is savoring the feel and the moment of being inside me, but then his hips begin moving faster and his hands tighten on my skin. My own arms move so my fingers can grasp his wrists, leaning with all his strength against the wall behind me. His skin is warm and his eyes snap open at the contact, glancing down as I brace against him. A deep noise is heard from his throat, a growl, I realize, before I look up to meet his eyes again.

Jack leans down with such grace, tucking his face in my neck and inhaling my scent. His lips trace my golden skin there, not nearly as dark as his but not as pale and white as I'm accustomed to seeing when I look down at my limbs or steal a look in the mirror. The sun has given me some needed color, given me a warmth I'll truly miss.

He murmurs my name into the crook of my neck, but I'm nearly gone as I begin moving more fiercely against him; there is a need inside of me that has taken over, threatening to drive me mad with lust and feel and heat if it is not succumbed- and soon. My hips seem to be moving on their own accord, my fingers tightening on his.

Realizing this plight inside of me, Jack quickly swoops me up around my waist and lifts me against the wall so my feet no longer touch the pavers on the ground. Quickly, I wrap my legs about his waist, neither one of us ever ceasing our movements as our lips me in a hungry, carnal kiss.

I try to keep silent. I don't want anyone to hear us both on account of Jack's unlikely pleasant record with the people on the island and of public indecent exposure. If we are to be found, not only will the authorities here call us on obvious piracy but such "indecencies" will cause us to spend the night in the jail. And, obviously, I'm sure neither of us want to be spending one of our last nights together sleeping on hay and surrounded by rats.

My hands tighten in his hair as I feel that drunken manner take over my mind and all seems to snap inside of me as my body releases, stars flooding before my eyes as I collapse against him. One thrust, two, and Jack has joined me in unbelievable bliss, his body trapping me between the stone wall and his warm, familiar bulk. His scent floods my senses as I feel my body nearly go numb with ecstacy.

We don't move for many long minutes in comfortable silence, comforted by the sound of each others comfortable breathing and panting against flushed skin. "Christ," I'm able to pant in astonishment.

Jack nuzzles my neck. "Wear ye out?"

"Impossible, pirate," I smile, leaning back against the wall as he allows my skirts to fall back to my feet and he steps back to adjust his britches and buckle of his belt. I feel boneless, like I can barely move; I'm in a dreamy haze.

Jack presses another kiss to my neck before moving to my mouth. "I'm willing to argue with that," he says. "Before the night is over, I guarantee you'll be so worn out ye won't be able to walk." Then, he grins that dazzling grin. "Ready to continue yer tour, love?"

"_Smoking, often, and calling out our guilty pleasures  
Let's keep talking, anything to stop clockwatching  
Lately we're running out of time, aren't we?  
Crazy for running all the time, maybe  
Let's forget we're running out of time."  
_"**Clockwatching" -Jason Mraz**

* * *

I just want to mention that this story is on 43 people's alert lists and 47 favorites lists, which is fantastic and I am uber excited and happy that all of you enjoy this story as much as I love writing it, but yet I only receive about 10 reviews, give or take, each chapter. I am thankful for these reviews and feedback, but yet I can't help but point out that it kind of hurts my feelings that I have not received one review from more than half of the people on those two lists. I'm not expecting constant praise and cuddles from everyone, but feedback (good or bad) or maybe a simple hi. I live for your all's feedback. It would be nice if everyone would just pop in every once in a while I'm not asking for much.

But, as always, I appreciate all of my reviewers: **VooDooJayneSmith, Genevra, dreadlockedpencil, Renajah, NightOwle, alonefreehearted, sandragoon., Depps1AndOnly, Andie Anderson, Renor Faer, and xxblackheavenxpiratesblissxx. **


	22. Just Lucky

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

"_**One should rather die than be betrayed. There is no deceit in death. It delivers precisely what it has promised. Betrayal, though... betrayal is the willful slaughter of hope."  
**__**-Steven Deitz **_

This needs to be planned out, I know. My moves need to be practiced, my methods all laid out in a careful line. I need to study everything I can about my next charge, why she would be a target and what I need to do in order to find and help her. I need to concentrate. But how can I concentrate when I know there is less than thirty-two hours left to spend with a man I cannot live without?

I set the envelope Chester handed me a few hours ago down on the table, covering my face with my hands. I can feel the burning sting of the tears coming, but I try to fight them off. I hate crying; what's the point of it? It does nothing but embarrass me and cause my cheeks to flush. It won't make me feel better afterwards. No matter how hard and long I cry I will still be leaving the morning after next and regretting this decision the entire time.

So why don't the tears vanish for my entire existence? Why can't I just wish them away?

"Andie?" a voice says from behind me.

My head snaps up and I turn to see Chester standing in the door, an honest look of worry in his bright eyes. "What is it, mate?" I ask.

He swallows, coming to stand beside me. He touches my shoulder with a gentle hand, to which I turn away from. I hate crying and I hate to be touched while doing it. It makes me feel weak, like I'm in need of sympathy. I bloody hate sympathy. "Are you all right?" Chester asks.

I wipe away the tears from my cheeks. "I'm fine. Don't worry yourself, Chester."

But he's still frowning at me. "I've never seen you cry before," he says gently.

I realize I am still a bit bitter towards him. "Well, there's a first time for everything isn't there? Just don't go around spreading that Andie Bryant has tear ducts. I have a reputation to uphold, you know?"

He doesn't say anything but that furrowed brow of his says enough. "Is it Jack?" he asks, offering me the handkerchief from his pocket.

I take it without meeting his eyes. "It's a lot of things."

"You don't want to leave him."

"No," I agree, "I don't."

"But you hate the ocean," Chester tells me. "You get sea sick."

I can't help but laugh at this statement. "I know."

"Terribly."

I smile at him. "Yes."

He's watching me with curious and slightly narrowed eyes. He looks as though I have just stabbed him in the gut and does not join in on my laughter. "I thought you were confusing things at first," he confesses, "Love and lust. But I keep seeing the way he looks at you and the way you smile around him and now you're crying and..." he stops. "Now I am unsure as to what is the right and wrong thing to do."

I shrug, trying to play this off as nothing. "It makes no difference now."

"Why do you say that?" Chester asks.

I don't look at him. I can't bring myself to do it. "I have a calling, as you say. I can't just run from it forever." But despite my words, Rodney's voice haunts my thoughts; _If it's your destiny, then the unnatural will come to you._

Chester does not look satisfied at this explanation but yet does not question me about it further. "Where is Jack?" he says instead.

"He's downstairs," I sniff, dabbing my tears with the handkerchief. The material is soft on my damp skin. "Explaining to Will and Elizabeth why he and I nearly ran the entire King's army into their home this afternoon."

"What?"

I release a short, amused laugh, remembering the way they had chased us almost clear across the island before we lost them about a mile or two away from the Turner residence. "We were caught shagging behind the court house," I explain with an unashamed smile.

He rolls his eyes at me, shaking his head in wonderment. "Why is it that you never cease to get in trouble, no matter where you are?"

I shrug. "Just lucky, I guess."

Then, after a moment, Chester reaches up to scratch the back of his neck, looking awkward and most unscripted. "Look," he says. "I'm leaving in a couple hours. I was thinking it would probably be best if you left for Spain a little early. The ship I am taking is stopping at Madrid, but you could find a carriage and travel the rest of the way to Barcelona."

I look down at the papers before me. My current charge is living in Barcelona, Spain all though I am unsure where to find her or who she is. All I know is that I will find here near the border house _El Fantasma_.

"You want me to leave early?" I ask, completely caught off guard.

He nods. "I've already had Rodney pack his things and gather the rest of yours. Norma Jean will be coming along with you. I fear Jack will throw her overboard if she does not," my boss says with a smile.

I narrow my eyes at him in bewilderment. "Wait. Why did you have Rodney pack his bags?"

"Didn't Jack tell you?" Chester questions. "Rodney is on leave from his contract with the _Black Pearl_. Jack asked him to go with you- to watch over you, I suppose. You could use the extra set of eyes and muscle with all this commotion with the Fortunes of Athena, Andie."

"Did you ask him to do this?" I demand.

"No," Chester replies, surprised at my reaction. "He's just worried, is all."

"If he is so worried," I began angrily, "Then why didn't he ask me to stay with him in the first place?"

I stand, making my way to the door. Chester calls after me, but I ignore him, ready for a fight. Jack is sending Rodney along with me? Does he not think I can take care of myself? Or maybe Chester is telling me the truth and the pirate truly is worried about my welfare; the mention of the trouble the Fortunes has caused has made him a bit nervous in the past. But if he is worried enough to send the first mate of his ship along with me, then why is he allowing me to leave in the first place? I would be safe with him on the _Black Pearl_, wouldn't I? Yes, I would.

I am down the stairs in a flash, where I nearly collide with the warmth of Will Turner's chest. "Woah," he says with a laugh, "Where are you off to in such a hurry?"

"Where's Jack?" I ask him.

He must see the hurt and the confusion on my face, for he frowns before pointing towards the kitchen. "He's-"

But I never allow my new friend to finish before I am bolting towards to the door, my footsteps making a quick patter on the wooden floor. I push open the door, ready to raise my voice–

Instead, I nearly drop over dead in a black abyss from the sight I see. There, pressed up against Captain Jack Sparrow is Kamella Kay, his hands on her shoulders and her mouth on his. I can't speak, I can't move, all I can do is gape in shock as Will runs in after me, his eyes wide as he stops beside me.

Jack pushes Kamella away from him, giving her a curious look before looking over her shoulder to see Will and I at the door, confusion written over his friends face and the pain washing over mine.

Kamella follows his gaze to turn in order to see me, a smirk look on her wretched face. She smiles, turning and walking to the door, her eyes on me. "Told you so," she says with accomplishment, pushing past us.

"Andie," Jack begins, opening his mouth to explain.

Will is no longer beside me, but I had not noticed him leaving. I'm in such shock that I can't see anything but that same vision of him kissing _her_ and the numbness of my body, save for the ache in my chest. My eyes are burning.

He tries to grab me before I can ran away, but I step back and raise a hand before his fingertips brush my skin. "Touch me and I'll kill you," I tell him. And in this moment, I really mean it.

"Andie, please, you don't understand-" he tries to explain, but I'm out in the hall again, trying to get away from here as soon as possible.

As I race up the stairs, ignoring Jack's pleas, Chester comes running down, wondering what all the commotion is about. "Wait for me," I tell him. Jack is right behind me, confused as to what this means.

"You're leaving?" he demands. I ignore him.

I grab my bag and begin gathering anything else about the room that is mine, swinging my satchel onto my shoulder the moment we enter the guest room. How could he do this? How can he be with me, how could he of said he _loved_ me, and then...

"Andie," Jack reaches out and grabs my arm before I can exit the room, his eyes bright and intense. A moment of silence passes between us. "...Please don't go."

I realize I would have died to here these words any earlier. That's all I wanted was for him to ask me to stay. And now... well, now I am too angry to care any less. I swallow, meeting his eyes. "You're too late."

I refuse to cry. I won't shed a tear, I swear it. I won't give Jack or Kamella the pride. If she wants him, she can have him. I'm going to Spain and I'm going to have a drink and a good time and have any man I want. I don't need him. I don't want him.

Christ, why do I have to be so stupid?

I've never seen that look in his eyes. "Stay," he tells me. "_Please._"

If I do not move right now, I fear I will fall to his feet in tears. "Goodbye, Jack." And with that, I turn on my heel and walk away, focused on just making it out of this house and Port Royal. I have to leave, I have to clear my head.

Chester meets me at the front door of the Turner household. He takes my bag from my shoulder, confusion still written all over his face. "What just happened?" he asks.

I can't speak to him. I can't think about what just happened, whether or not the image won't stop playing over and over again in my head. I feel like I'm going to be sick.

"Andie," Elizabeth sudden appears not a foot behind me. She looks as though she is unsure what to say. Who can blame her? "I'm sure..." she stops. "I'm sure there's been a misunderstanding."

I smile at her. She looks about my age, but her face is just as sweet and naive as a child's. I love that about her. "Thank you for everything, Elizabeth." I attempt a small smile. "Give Will my goodbyes."

The air is crisp and fresh this evening. I walk silently beside Chester, wallowing in the silence and the melancholy. I should have known, right? Falling in love with a pirate. Falling in love with Captain Jack Sparrow. Stupid, I tell myself. I'm stupid and foolish and..

And I'm never going to see him again. _Good_. I don't _want_ to see him again. In fact, I hope he falls off a cliff, his god damned ship and all!

No I don't. I can't believe I just said that.

As we reach the docks, I can see Rodney and Norma Jean waiting for us patiently. Norma Jean sees me the instant I come into sight and takes off into a full sprint, running to me with ears back and tongue flying. She jumps up, trying to capture my attention. I pat her head a couple times in hello, scratching behind her ears. She sits obediently, her big brown eyes bright.

Rodney looks at me with a watchful eye. "You alright?"

"I'm great," I lie, not even trying to force a smile. What's the point?

He raises an eyebrow. "Jack didn't walk you down here?"

With the sound of his name I feel myself tense. I feel so drained, so tired. I want to crawl in bed and never wake up again. But we can only be so lucky...

"No," I reply, wanting to quickly change the subject. "Rodney, you don't have to do this."

"Do what?" he asks.

"Come with me," I explain. "I can take care of myself."

He narrows his eyes at me. "I know you can. Jack's just worried about all the trouble Athena's fortune has been causing. Two heads are better than one, you know? Besides, I want to do this," Rodney smiles. He seems to have forgotten all about our argument yesterday evening.

"Andie," Chester says, looking wistfully at something behind me. "Look."

I reel around to see Jack Sparrow at the end of the dock, looking uncomfortable and not knowing what to say. He came after me. Well, he can chase me all the way to Spain, I remind myself, and it won't change a thing. He betrayed me. And even worse, he hurt me. I can't overlook that; my pride is much too overpowering.

Chester grabs Rodney by the arm. "Come on," he says. "Let's give them some privacy." And with that, they both turn and retreat to the small boat waiting at the other side of the dock, ready to row us out to the ship that will take us away from this place.

I can't even glare at him, I am so angry. I just watch him with shining eyes. No crying, I tell myself over and over. I have a reputation to uphold. You can't run with the boys when you cry like a woman left and right. I've already shed enough tears for Jack Sparrow.

"What can I do to make ye stay?" Jack says as he approaches me.

I shake my head at him. "Nothing. You're the one who wanted me to leave in the first place, remember?"

He's beginning to grow angry with me, I can tell by the way his jaw hardens. "I never wanted ye to leave, Andie."

I shrug. "It doesn't matter now, anyways."

He's quiet for a moment, watching me. "I know what it looked like," he explains. "But Kamella kissed _me_, Andie. It caught me off guard, is all. I don't want her, ye know that."

I can feel the tears coming, but I stubbornly blink them back. "No, I don't know that."

He reaches out, grabbing me by the arms. "Have I ever given ye a reason not to trust me?"

"You're a pirate," I hiss, retching out of his arms. "That's reason enough."

Jack does not look fazed. "You're being ridiculous, Andie."

"_I'm_ being ridiculous," I laugh, but the sound is not full of warmth. It is bitter. "_I_ walk in on _you_ kissing another woman and _I'm_ being ridiculous," I snap. "Have a nice life, Jack. I hope I never see you again." I turn my back on him, walking to the other end of the docks. The worst part is, I know this will all be a regret by the time I realize what I'm doing and what I just said.

He does not run after me. "I'll be seeing ye soon," he calls.

I don't turn around to look at him, but I do lift my arm with enough zest to flip him the bird. "Fuck you, Sparrow."

Jack laughs. "Too late, darling. Much too late."

"_I've kissed your lips and held your head  
__Shared your dreams and shared your bed  
__I know you well, I know your smell  
__I've been addicted to you.  
__Goodbye my lover  
__Goodbye my friend."  
_"**Goodbye My Lover" -James Blunt**

* * *

Thanks to Carolin (jjrose) for bringing this song to my attention. I told you I'd use it, didn't I?

No worries, darlings, there are still many chapters to come, all though I know it may seem like the end now. Believe me when I say that it's not even close. Did I mention that I want to write a third installment as well? I'm really planning on it. What do you all say to that? Andie wouldn't be overstaying her welcome, would she?

I kind of like the feel to this chapter. It's kind of cluttered and it moves fast, but I did that on purpose. Andie's mind at this point _is_ moving quickly and her thoughts are so jumbled and she's so confused. When writing this I felt the same way when I put myself in her shoes in order to write this, and I wanted all of you to feel the same. Anyways, I hope you like.

I appreciate all the reviews, guys! Love to you all: **Istani, Renajah, Depp.Me, VooDooJayneSmith, dreadlockedpencil, mirandler43, radijs, tomsgirl79, jjrose, Depps1AndOnly, rock n roll star, genevra, Lyra Potter, alonefreehearted, johnnyluver4ever, Sandragoon.**


	23. El Fantasma

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

**"False happiness is like false money; it passes for a long time as well as the true, and serves some ordinary occasions; but when it is brought to the touch, we find the lightness and alloy, and feel the loss."  
****-Alexander Pope**

My room and bed aboard the _Reprise_ was not as comfortable as it was on the _Black Pearl_, but the mattress was firm and the quilts were warm, at least. No complaints from me. At least, not until my visitors started showing up. Men from the crew stopped by repeatedly to see if I was settled in nicely, or if I needed anything. I told every one of them that I was fine, I just wanted to rest, and still they did not cease to leave me alone. Finally, I snapped the lock on the door in its place and I settled under the covers, Norma Jean curled up against me. I did not leave my room for nearly the entire journey.

I've spent the past few weeks to myself, not including Norma Jean. She's been at my side every moment. She has developed quite an attachment to me, it would seem. Chester or Rodney check on me constantly, trying to inconspicuously unravel my thoughts or what happened between Jack and I. I would rather have the two just come out and ask me in a straightforward question instead of constantly beating around the bush, but I do not tell them this, on account of I do not want to speak of such things.

Tonight, I cannot sleep. My head is too full. I feel like there is too much pressure and that I will crack like an egg at any moment. I don't know how to make the pressure stop. I'm trying my hardest not to think of Jack, of what happened, but I cannot stop my thoughts from wandering back to him. Of what he's doing, what he's thinking. Is he with Kamella now? I wish I could just fall asleep and forget all about this. I'm pathetic.

"Andie?"

Rodney is sitting beside me in the coach, my back to him as I am turned toward the window, although there is not much that interests me outside. "Hmm?" I reply. Norma Jean, who is curled up between us and her head rested in my lap, perks her ears to listen further.

"What did you say the name of the tavern was?" he asks.

"_El Fantasma_," I reply. Turning to regard him, I take a peek through his window in order to see a large building close by with said title above the door. _Finally_, I think. We've been in this coach for far too long. I miss walking. First we spend weeks on the _Reprise_, and now this. It will feel good to use my legs again.

The driver opens my door a moment later, extending his hand to help me from the coach. I oblige, putting my palm in his and allowing him to help me safely to the ground. Norma Jean jumps down as well, meeting Rodney on the other side. He thanks the driver and pays him his share before tucking the rest of the coins into his jacket.

"Do you think they allow dogs inside?" Rodney inquires as he pats Norma Jean on her white and red spotted ears.

I shrug. "Probably not. It doesn't make a difference, anyway. If they try to drag her out she'll take off their arm for sure. Nolan tried messing with her one morning on the _Pearl_ and..." I pause, surprised by my casual mentioning of the _Black Pearl._ The moment the name leaves my lips I feel a wave of unhappiness wash over me. "Well, she nearly ruined his face. She's very touchy," I finish, swallowing thickly. Will I ever be able rid of these memories?

By the look on Rodney's face, he sees the way I pause and look to my feet and the mentioning of Jack Sparrow's only true love. He looks as though he wants to say or ask me something, but he only touches the small of my back with a gentle hand in order to lead me into the tavern.

"I see," is his reply.

But as we enter _El Fantasma_, only one thought enters my head: Chester is a goddamned liar! This place is most definitely _not_ a tavern, but a very large brothel. He has sent Rodney and I straight to a Spanish whorehouse!

There are women everywhere, dressed in silk and lace, some half dressed, and some less properly dressed than I am. The moment we walk into the door three girls close by begin gawking over Rodney and arguing in their native tongue over who is to take the handsome man with the bright blue eyes upstairs. "Don't you even think about it," I tell Rodney before they have a chance to offer him any "services".

"_Recepción, recepción_!" Welcome!

We both turn to see a heavyset woman with long, dark hair and black eyes. She is smiling at us with the hope for more service, which of course will bring her more wealth. Over my dead body!

"Um. Hello," I say.

But she doesn't see me. She is too busy looking at Rodney with his ivory teeth and handsome smile. The expression on his face now, however, would add up to something more of nervousness and confusion. "_No sea tímido, muchacho,__ alli no es ninguna_!" Don't be shy, boy, there is no need!

Rodney almost looks frightened with the way she is pushing him towards to band of girls flocking over him in the corner and the girls reaching out to pull him closer. "Uh," he begins, "Do you speak English?"

"English?" the woman repeats in a thick Spanish accent, "Of course I speak English! Elena here does as well, if that is what you are looking for," she explains, nodding towards a girl standing beside him with long, flirtatious eyelashes.

"No," Rodney says, lifting his hands in defense, "That's not what I'm looking for."

"Ah," the woman supplies with a wicked grin, "You are one of _those_ English boys. All right, I have plenty others who do not. Marisol, over there, speaks Russian," she explains, pointing to a big-busted woman across the room, "And Natalia, she can't speak a word other than _Espanol_, but she will keep you from walking for a month if you are rough enough with her-"

Rodney's eyes are pleading with me to save him. I laugh, wondering how on Earth he became a pirate in the first place. "He's not looking for one of your girls," I try to explain to her.

The woman reels around to see me, her eyes brightening with the possibility of even more business. "I see," she says thoughtfully, looking me over with a suspicious eye. "Well, I have plenty of girls who will be happy to-"

My eyes go wide, suddenly realizing what she is thinking. "No, no, no," I say instantly, "I'm not looking for one either."

Her brows narrow curiously at me. "Then what are you here for?"

_Good question_, I think. Perhaps Chester is playing a joke on me. He's probably laughing his ass off right now, chuckling at the way he tricked me into traveling all the way out here in order to find myself in a brothel instead of the intended tavern. Either way there is a job to done, I suppose. Now it's just the matter of finding the person I am to be helping, or stopping, on some occasions, in order to crack the mystery.

"She wants a job," Rodney suddenly blurts out.

I glare at him over the woman's shoulder, wondering what the hell is going on in that brain of his. "I-"

"No need to be embarrassed, dear!" she tells me, "You came at exactly the right time! We have been a few girls short latley, and are in need of someone fresh to bring the men in, if you catch my drift. Now, let's see here," she begins, looking me over more closely from my head to my bust, where she reaches out to push my cleavage up a bit and to the side before dropping her hand to lift my skirts to take a peek at my legs. Such treatment could cause an entirely provocative woman such as myself to blush despite herself. "You have a dancer's legs, my dear!" she exclaims. "That'll bring them in for sure!"

Jack loved my legs as well, I recall. He was always touching them, or kneading them, or kissing them. I never understood his fascination, considering they are just legs. I asked him once, laughing as his coarse beard had tickled and brushed along the skin just above my knee. "Because, darling," he had said. "Every man loves a pair of long legs to delve between every once and a while." This was the first comment I can remember him saying that made my cheeks flush. And now, I fear my cheeks are just as pink as they had been that night.

"What is your name?" she asks me.

"Andie Bryant," I reply instantly, not giving it a second thought. I did not even consider changing my name once again. Andie feels like home now. It feels like me.

She smiles. "My name is Abegail Cortez. Welcome."

Rodney is laughing at me as she drags me past him, gabbing about a room to put me in and worrying about a wardrobe and a hot meal. "Who has been feeding you?" she asks. "I like a little bit of meat on my girls."

_Christ_, I think, _What have I gotten myself into_?

The other women in the house do not like newcomers. All though half do not even speak English, I can tell by the hasty look in their eyes and the way they press their lips in a line with annoyance when they glance at me. Competition, I suppose. Well, they don't have to worry about losing money to me. Sure, I've gone "undercover" in order to solve the mystery inside _El Fantasma_ as one of _them_, but that doesn't mean I have to really take up the job, does it?

Gods, I hope not.

Even when I used to be out on my own, before these past few years, I never sold myself like the women surrounding me do. Why? Because there is no fun in that. These women do it for the money. Every time I had relations such as these with a man, it was for the thrill or for the closeness of it all. I was lonely. I would always tell myself I was not to be involved with the men I was supposed to be protecting, or in some cases, stopping, but every time a warm hand cupped the back of my neck or I saw that look of _want_ in their eyes, I caved in. But I never once charged them for my mistakes.

"Andie, huh?"

I look up to see a pretty woman with blonde hair and blue eyes. She has an English accent and creases in her skirts, as well as an amused look on her face. "Aye," I reply, cringing as soon as the word slipped from my lips. I've noticed these past couple of weeks how many words and phrases I've picked up from the men on the _Black Pearl_. I never would notice such things unless Jack teased me about them. Would it be all right for me to mention how much I miss that teasing?

I clear my throat. "Yes, I'm Andie."

She raises an eyebrow at me. "They told me you were an English girl and I didn't believe them." Her smile is friendly and her teeth are straight and white. What is a pretty girl like her doing in a place like this? "I'm Hilary," she says, extending her hand. "I suppose us English girls better stick together."

I smile and shake her hand politely. "Are we the only ones?"

She nods. "Most girls are from every part of Spain you could possibly think of, understandably. A couple from France, a couple from Russia. I suppose Abegail put us together for a reason. Maisie sleeps in here as well, but half the time she doesn't show up. She's a bit intimidating when you first meet her, but pay no heed."

I nod. "All right."

So Hilary was the only English girl before I was here? I'll have to keep that in mind. The first thing you learn while in my line in work is to catch anything that is out of place or to keep your eye on someone who is singled out.

She watches me for a long moment, that small amused smile still pulling at the right side of her mouth. "You don't belong here, do you?"

I raise an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

Hilary shrugs her slender shoulders. "You have this look about you," she says, gesturing towards me as her blue eyes move from mine to my scuffed boots beneath my black skirts and back to my eyes. "Despite the 'Warning: I'm a bad ass' sign you practically have hanging around your neck."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, you don't exactly look like you fit in with the high-to-do class, that's for sure, but you don't look like you belong here, either. No offense. There's too much emotion in your eyes," Hilary tells me bluntly. I don't mind the honesty. "A woman has to be a cold hard bitch in order to survive around here."

"You don't seem to be a cold hard bitch," I reply.

She smiles. "Well, I like breaking the rules. Care to join me?"

"_Maybe I need to see the daylight  
__To leave behind this half-life  
__Don't you see I'm breaking down?  
__Lately, something here don't feel right  
__This is just a half-life  
__Is there really no escape?  
__No escape from time of any kind?"  
_"**Half Life" -Duncan Sheik**

* * *

Sorry about the lack of updating lately and the short chapter. I've been really busy, as always, and sick the past couple of days.

I'm loving the reviews.

Love to my groupies: **SilenceHereIAm, Nicole, Jenni, Mirandler41, Laivin, dreadlockedpencil, CaptainJackIsBack, genevra, Renor Faer, d, voodooJayneSmith, Lyra Potter, Sandragoon,** **jjrose, Johnnyluver4ever, Istani, lydiachu1341**, **Depps1AndOnly, alonefreehearted, ambiguous101, and Renajah.**


	24. Jumping the Gun

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

"_**Without mysteries, life would be very dull indeed. What would be left to strive for if everything were known?"  
**__**- Charles De Lint**_

"This is out of control, Rodney!"

"You have to do what you have to do, right? Did you find anything?" he whispers.

Rodney and I are hiding out down one of the long hallways of the _El Fantasma_, being quiet as to not draw attention to ourselves. I have to admit, working with someone on a mission is somewhat more difficult than working by myself. But as Rodney said, two heads are better than one. Perhaps it will all work out for the best in the end.

"I can't really find anything when I don't know what I'm looking for just yet," I remind him.

His smile is not that shy, uncomfortable smile that I am used to. No, this smile is most satisfied. "You're losing your touch, Miss Bryant."

I raise an eyebrow. "Did _you_ find something?"

"More like over_heard_ something. There have been three deaths in the past month, all unfortunate young women who worked here," Rodney explains. "Murders."

I am so excited to have this information, a lead, of sorts, that I squeal and throw my arms around his neck. "Rodney, I could kiss you!" He raises his eyebrows and opens his arms in a welcoming gesture, as though to say 'All right, what are you waiting for?' I laugh. "Maybe later. We have work to do."

Suddenly, the door on Rodney's right snaps open, revealing a young woman with auburn hair and the prettiest, longest lashes I've ever seen. She winks as she passes by, blowing Rodney a cunning kiss.

"You know, Andie," Rodney begins, watching the woman's hips sway as she makes her way down the hall. "I'm thinking that I should go undercover as well. You know, interview some of the lasses. Starting with that one."

I reach out and grab his arm, pulling him back with a shake of my head. "That's not necessary. Besides, she probably has a disease or something."

"I don't know, she looked pretty suspicious."

"As far as we can tell, all of these girls are suspicious," I remind him.

"You're right," he agrees. "So what do we do next?"

"We keep our eyes open. I'm going to question a couple of the girls, see if they know anything useful. But I want you," I tell him, "To keep an eye on anyone who enters or leaves this place. Look out for anyone suspicious. No sneaking off with strange women, all right?" I smile.

Rodney chuckles at this. "You have my word." And with that he saunters through the door, his head up and back straight.

I make my way back down the hall to the room, or rather closet, I share with Hilary and the apparently intimidating Maisie. We are of course expected to be with a man every night in the rooms downstairs of the house. The top floor of the house is only for the work, maids and the rooms we are to see as ours as long as we do not have company.

"Ah, Andie," Hilary says as I open the door to our room. "You're just in time to meet Miss- I'm- Too- Good- Not- To- Have- A- Room- Of- My- Own."

There, gazing at herself at the large, gold-framed mirror on the wall is who I assume to be Maisie, pinching her cheeks to create a blush on her skin and tossing back her shiny blonde curls. She doesn't even attempt to acknowledge my presence.

"Say hello to Andie, Maisie," Hilary tells her, rolling her blue eyes.

Maisie looks up to glance at my reflection in the mirror. "Hello," she says shortly. "Don't touch my things, don't wear my clothing, and most importantly, don't speak with me in front of my company, all right, _Andie_?"

Needless to say, I am somewhat surprised at her attitude, but I am anything but intimidated. "Right," I agree, because after all, I was not planning on doing any of these things to begin with.

"Splendid!" Maisie whirls around, her breasts pushed high and her waist clenched tight. She grabs her shawl from the foot of her bed as her dark eyes carefully look me over. "So you're the girl who's taking Tara's place?" she asks as though this is unimpressive information.

I raise a dark eyebrow in question. "Tara?"

"Tara used to work here," Hilary explains.

Taking advantage of the conversation, I question her further. "What happened to her?"

"She was murdered," Maisie bites out in her thick Russian accent.

Hilary sighs. "Hush, Maisie. We don't know that."

"Of course we know that!"

"Don't you have an appointment to attend to?" Hilary snaps at her from her place atop her bed.

Maisie viciously stares her down for a moment longer before turning to glare at me. "Watch yourself," she says. "There's been two more like her. It would be a shame to have those pretty petticoats covered in blood."

Hilary watches her roommate with narrowed eyes as she swings the door open and closes it behind her. "I'm sorry about that," she says. "Ever since Tara disappeared she's been obsessed with death and all that."

_Finally_, I think, _We're getting somewhere._ "Why does she think Tara was murdered?" I ask innocently.

Hilary shrugs. "She said some guy was always following her around. He thought he was in love with her. Maisie and Tara were close; Tara told her everything. Maisie claims that Tara told her she left that night in order to break it off with him. She never came back. But don't worry, we're safe here."

"Do you know the man's name? The one who was stalking Tara?"

She gives me a curious look. "No. Why?"

Realizing I may have gotten ahead of myself, I shrug and begin messing with my hair in the mirror in order to draw some of the attention away from my many questions. "Just curious," I reply.

88888

"Maisie, can I have a word?"

She looks up from the man she is currently settled with, sitting in his lap and whispering in his ear. "I thought I said not to speak with me while I'm with company?" Maisie replies.

I roll my eyes. "This is important. Just come with me for a moment, will you?"

She sighs, but plasters on a fake smile as she leans down to bat her lashes at her latest costumer. "Don't go anywhere, sweetheart," she coos in his ear.

Resisting the urge to gag myself, I lead her down the hall to an empty drawing room and away from the small tavern inside the house. "Maisie, do you remember the name of the man who was following Tara around?"

Maisie gives me a strange look but gives the question a thought, none the less. "Jordan Ademan," she tells me. "Is there a reason why you're asking me this?"

I shrug. "I heard a few of the girls gossiping about the regular costumers. If he's a suspected murderer I want to be ahead of the game, no?"

"Good for you, taking my advice and all. The others didn't and look what happened to them! Stupid blighters," Maisie says. For a Russian woman, she uses an awful lot of English words.

"The others? You mean the two girls who went missing after Tara?" I ask.

"They didn't go missing. They were murdered too. The inspector found their bodies and everything."

_Interesting_, I think. _Why would a killer leave the two bodies to be found but not the first? _"What were their names?"

Maisie doesn't seem to be warming up to my questions, disappointingly. "Paulina Sanchez and Helen Cortez," she supplies. "Writing a book?"

"Perhaps," I reply. "It depends on how well this having sex with strangers for money thing works out."

She scoffs at this, sensing my sarcasm. "Whatever. Are you done yet?" I nod, waving an arm out towards the door as I watch her leave.

If Maisie thinks Jordan Ademan was in love with Tara, why would he kill her? Well, after all, love does make you do stupid things sometimes. Hilary said that Tara was planning on breaking things off with him; perhaps Jordan couldn't accept that Tara didn't want to be with him, that she didn't feel the same way for him that he did about her? Then again, Tara did work in a brothel; could it be that Jordan was so overcome with jealousy that this became a 'If I can't have her, no one will!' type of situation?

_All right, Andie,_ I tell myself, _Don't jump the gun just yet._ I need to find Rodney, have him gather some information outside _El Fantasma_. But when I get to the front lobby, Rodney is nowhere in sight. I frown, glancing towards the main doors. I asked him to keep a sharp eye on anyone who enters or leaves this place, but then again, with the amount of sailors and men in the house at this time of night, maybe the job was more difficult than I had previously thought.

"Hola, hermoso," I turn as a husky voice in my ear and a warm hand on my waist eludes me from my thoughts. "Interesado en tener compania esta noche?"Interested in having company tonight?

_Gods, he looks good_, I find myself thinking. His eyes are keep and dark, like I'm accustomed to, with his brown hair pulled back at his neck and golden skin stretched over taught muscles. As I inhale, I catch the scent of salt water. He's a sailor, maybe even a pirate, by his choice of clothing and rough hands.

Jack told me that every woman he took while we were apart looked absolutely nothing like me. He wanted to forget. He didn't want to touch or kiss any woman he could convince himself to be me. I, on the other hand, care nothing about forgetting at this moment. I want comfort; I'm tired of being alone and I'm tired of hiding away, pretending that nothing happened.

The man smiles at me. "Uh," I reply, "I don't speak Spanish."

He laughs and reaches out to touch my hair, brushing a piece away from my face. "Usted debe ser nuevo en esto." You must be new at this.

I find myself weak in the knees as he leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of my mouth. "Hey," I say, "I'm supposed to be the confrontational whore, here. Why is it _that I'm_ not seducing _you_?"

He laughs, all though he has no a clue of what I'm saying to him. He's flirting with me. When was the last time that happened? Weeks? Months? Hell, years even? I cannot remember how long ago it was that I walked away from Jack on that dock. It feels like a lifetime ago.

Suddenly, someone grabs me by arm. Rodney is glaring at the Spanish-speaking man who approached me, his fingers holding onto my arm with more confidence and strength than I realized he had. "She's not interested," he says, before dragging me out of the lobby.

"Rodney," I protest, fighting against him as he tosses open the doors to the drawing room on the west end of the large house. "What the Hell are you doing?" I shove him roughly away from me.

"Get out," he tells a couple who were busy kissing and groping before we slammed through the doors. "Vaminos!" They scramble out, cursing us in their native tongue as they go.

"What's your problem?" I snap.

"Don't act like I don't know what you're doing, Andie," Rodney begins. "You act like nothing is wrong, but yet every time Jack or the _Black Pearl_ is mentioned you grow suspiciously quiet. Chester told me you and Jack had an argument back in Port Royal, and then we saw again on the docks. And now this? Sleeping with another man is not going to make your problems disappear."

"You know nothing about the problems between Jack and I," I accuse him, "Stop acting like you do."

"That's because you deny there are any! You deny he exists at all!"

I narrow my eyes at him. "I don't deny anything."

"Then what happened?" he asks. "Was he just angry at you for leaving? Were you angry at him for asking you to choose between your job and him?"

I sigh. "Jack would never ask that of me, Rodney, you know that."

His voice is gentle now as he rests one hand on my shoulder. "What happened, Andie?"

I could tell him, I realize. I could tell him how numb I've felt since that day, how betrayed Jack caused every inch of my being to feel. I could admit that I'm a coward and I know I was wrong for running away. I could tell him how much I both love and despise Jack Sparrow at this very moment. But I can't bring myself to do it.

Rodney watches me for a long moment. "Spit it out, princess."

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, ignoring his sarcastic jab. He reminds me of Stanley sometimes, with his little teasing remarks. Stanley was always calling me 'princess' or 'queen' in spite of my cocky attitude and confidence. I'm sure my pigheadedness added to this as well. Sometimes I am hard to deal with.

_Spit it out_, I tell myself. That scene has played over and over in my head since that morning, how I walked into The Turner's kitchen, Will right behind me with worried eyes at the frustration on my face. I can see it now, against the backdrop of black, the way his waist was pressed up against the counter and her hands were on his chest, her mouth moving swiftly over his. I can still see the smirk on her face and the accomplishment in her eyes.

"Kamella and Jack were kissing."

So, I admitted it. He kissed another woman. Jealousy is a one-eyed monster that is eating me alive from the very pit of my stomach. I never used to be like this. But then again, I never had someone I cared enough about to get jealous over.

"I want to ask you something," Rodney says.

I open my eyes. "What more could you possibly want to know?"

"If Jack did not want you to be the only woman he would be kissing, why would he come back for you? He risked a lot to sail all the way to England, find a way into your father's estate and beat your fiancé to a bloody pulp. And that's just the beginning; he was forced to leave, but he came back for you again to tear you out of that wedding. If he didn't love you, would he have come back for you _twice_?"

I swallow thickly. "Why don't you ask him that?"

"Andie-"

"Don't question what I saw, Rodney."

He holds up a hand. "I'm not questioning anything. I believe you. I'm just saying, perhaps the truth is not always what meets the eye. Maybe Kamella kissed Jack and you walked in at exactly the wrong time. Did you even ask him what happened?"

"No," I admit.

"Well, therein lies the problem."

My brow furrows in frustration. "Don't you dare chastize me. Perhaps you're completely wrong about this. Jack could have kissed _her_."

"He could have," Rodney agrees. "But he didn't."

"You don't know that."

Rodney leads me to a nearby chair, sitting me down and kneeling in front of me. "Yes I do. Chester told me."

"Chester wasn't even there!" I exclaim. "He was upstairs-"

"Kamella planned the entire thing beforehand in order to separate the two of you. She knows you, Andie, she knows your instinct is to run away. She _won_."

I'm so angry that I cannot even cry. I can barely move. "Why didn't Chester tell me this himself? And why didn't you tell me earlier!"

"You shut everyone out. You wouldn't even speak to me aboard the _Reprise_," Rodney says.

"I was upset," I explain. "I didn't want to think about him and seeing you made me do that."

He gives me a small, sympathetic smile. "Understandably."

"And you knew this all along," I state.

"I wanted you to admit what happened in order to really realize it," Rodney complies.

But I'm still having trouble realizing the plot against me. "Why do they hate me?" I ask. "I don't understand. I've never done anything to either of them!" And that's saying a lot, considering all of the people I really have made angry.

Rodney shakes his head. "They don't hate you. Kamella's jealous, Andie, I told you that from the beginning. And like you said, she's manipulative; she convinced Chester that Jack was not good for you. She said the two of you were going to get each other killed, if anything. And if I know anything about Chester, it's that he would do anything for you. He thinks of you as his responsibility. That's why he was so frightened when he heard about Fia Green's pregnancy. He's worried the same will happen to you."

I shake my head. "This is a mess."

Rodney touches my cheek. "Jack's not going to let you go so easily, no worries about that."

"Part of me is still angry with him," I admit. "I can't help but think it wasn't all in Kamella's hands."

"Maybe it wasn't," Rodney admits. "It could happen. But keep in mind of all the things you've given up for him, and him you. I don't think you should forget all of it because of a kiss. You're more than that to him. That man would kill for you, Andie."

But is that enough? Is it ever enough?

"_When this began I had nothing to say  
__And I got lost in the nothingness inside of me  
__I was confused and I let it all out to find  
__That I'm not the only person with these things in mind  
__Inside of me with all the vacancy the words revealed  
__Is the only real thing that I've got left to feel  
__Nothing to loose, just hollow, stuck and alone  
__And the fault is my own."  
_"_**Somewhere I Belong" -Linkin Park**_

* * *

Wrote this chapter while I was in bed sick with the flu, haha, so I hope it wasn't just the fever talking. Question: anyone else having problems with their chapter or review alerts? I haven't been getting any of mine e-mailed to me anymore. I checked to see if the option was still enabled on the site multiple times, and they are. Is it just me?

Anyways, thanks for the reviews all. Looking forward to reading more feedback: **Renajah, ambiguous101, Johnnyluver4ever, alonefreehearted, jjrose, mirandler43, Sandragoon, Depps1andonly, maybethedreamisdreamingus, VooDooJayneSmith, and Captain Jenny Flint.**


	25. Reasons

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

"_**If you will call your troubles experiences, and remember that every experience develops some talent force within you, you will grow vigorous and happy, however adverse your circumstances may be."  
**__**-John Heywood**_

Sleep is inevitable. Every breath I take is a stabbing reminder of my intense anger and hatred for Captain jack Sparrow, as well as my never-ending guilt for my assumptions and for allowing myself to care for him in the first bloody place!

I'm staying on the first floor tonight, playing my part as to not seem suspicious, all though the only man in the room is Rodney and Norma Jean is supervising, eyes closed and curled up, content, at my feet. I can only bring myself to do so much and the first mate of the _Black Pearl_ , who is lying awake beside me, will not even allow me to go that far. I suppose I'll be grateful for it in the end. Anger and frustration sometimes drives people, especially me, to do foolish things. But I can't help but to want to get back at Jack, to make him just as angry and hurt as I was. Every time I think of his smile, of his confidence as he told me on the docks that he would see me soon, I find my blood boiling.

_Take your mind off of it. _

"Rodney?" I ask quietly as I scratch Norma Jean's spotted ears, her eyes rolling back in bliss and her furry body going slack.

"Hmm?" is the comfortable reply.

"How did you become a pirate?"

He's quiet for a moment. "Why do you want to know?"

I shrug. "Just curious. You're not exactly the most stereotypical of pirates I've met in my lifetime."

He laughs. "And you expected every pirate to be obsessed with treasure and ravaging women?"

I roll onto my side and prop up an elbow, resting my chin on my small palm in order to get a more exclusive look at him. "Are you telling me said rumor is untrue?"

"Is Jack like that?" he asks, blinking those blue eyes at me in the black of the room. I can barely see him.

"In a way," I reply. In all honesty, Jack is exactly like that. But simultaneously, he is very different from the rugged, black-hearted pirate that most tales and novels make him out to be. His compass doesn't even point North for Christ's sake! Besides, I don't think he could resist saving the damsel in distress, even being the anti-hero that he is. He even has a boyish side, I've discovered, one of his many interiors that he keeps brilliantly hidden beneath that gruff and roughish exterior. There were many times during our time together where I could not resist bringing this rare but charming side of his to the surface, enthralled by what I could discover next. Tickling was my best bet in getting that young and vibrant look to come to his usual intense and knowledgeable brown eyes. His hip bones and lower ribs were most sensitive, but when I would strike, quick and clever like a waiting cobra, I was careful to have a path I could take in order to away fast, love nothing more than when he chased me. He would catch me eventually, of course, but the fun was scampering away and hearing that puerile growl from his throat and seeing that playful twinkle in his eye as he tackled me to the floorboards of the _Pearl_. I would sink mirthfully into his kiss, my job complete. Sometimes I think he needs that escape.

Ugh. _Stop. Thinking. About. Him._ Perhaps I should have brought up a difference subject...

"All right, so _most_ pirates are bad ransacking eggs," Rodney confesses with a handsome smile that I can see despite the lack of light in the room.

"Except for you," I press.

He nods. "That's what Jack liked about me when we first met. I begged him for a contract on the _Black Pearl_ and he gave it to me because he liked my attitude. It wasn't the gold and the riches I was interested in. I wanted to travel; there had to be something more to life than the dank, dirty streets of London."

I inhale this, understanding his need for something more, for something exciting to cause a rush through your veins and a race to your heart. For anything that was different than what you are used to. I understand this because I am exactly the same way. "How old were you?" I ask.

"Seventeen."

My brow creases with concern. "What about your family?"

"My mother left," he explains. "She couldn't take anymore of my father's drinking, I suppose. He was horrible to her. And I couldn't take it, either. He was worse after she left. But I couldn't just leave my little sister there, starving and alone, so I saved up enough money to send her to school in France. She's married now; I've never seen her so happy."

I smile. "What is her name?"

"Arabella," Rodney replies with a far away look in his eyes.

"It's a beautiful name."

He nods. "Beautiful name for a beautiful girl. I swear I had to fight the suitors off from the moment she was born."

"And your father?" I gaze over at him curiously. "What happened to him?"

"He passed away the year Bella went off to school. I never heard anymore about my mother; she seemed to disappear off the face of the Earth," Rodney tells me thoughtfully, a dark, distant look in his eyes.

I am surprised to find the calm attitude Rodney has at this conversation. With any mention of my past I am tense and defensive. Rodney, on the other hand, seems to have dealt with his monsters long ago. I admire his brave and selfless ways.

"I'm sorry," is all I can think to say.

He shakes his head. "It was a long time ago, Andie."

None the less, I am still amazed at his easy-going tone. "How can you just accept everything so easily? You just told me all of that with no hesitation, no problems. How can you do that?"

Rodney reaches over and touches my cheek. One day you'll just wake up and realize that everything happens for a reason. All of that pain, everything you didn't think you could survive... it helped you become the woman you are today. And all of that fear and hesitation? It'll slowly melt away. It'll just be apart of you, like a freckle or a scar."

"Do you really believe that?" I question him. "That everything happens for a reason?"

"Aye," he says, "I do."

88888

This morning I explained to Abegail that I cannot deal with the customers that enter the _El Fantasma_ because I have my monthlies. I expected her not to care in the least bit, but she surprised me by handing me a rag and a feather duster and telling me to get busy.

"You might as well make yourself useful," Abegail told me in her thick Spanish accent, hands on her wide hips. "You can start by dusting the banister. Movement will lessen the pain."

And so here I am, cleaning the back halls. I finished the banister long ago, trying to keep myself moving like Abegail said. Not because I actually have my monthlies but because I want to keep myself busy so I do not think of the pirate. Or the worries surrounding the pirate.

But as I move down towards the next hall, I hear two quiet, hushed voices. I tell myself it's none of my business what they are discussing, but my curious side gets the best of me when I hear what is said next:

"She's been asking a lot of questions. I doubt curiosity is the only reason why. She might be on to something here, Maxwell."

I suddenly freeze and listen intently, so sure they are speaking of me. Let's be honest, I _do_ ask a lot of questions.

"What did you say her name was?" a male voice asks, his voice deep and gravely.

"Andie Bryant," a voice similar to Maisie's replies. I can see them through the hinges in the slightly ajar door, the man wearing an expensive brown coat and dark hair pulled back at the nape of his neck. His back is facing me but even through his coat I can see lean muscles and taught limbs. Maisie is sitting casually on the bed before him. Strange, I think, how her pervious Russian accent has suddenly disappeared.

"Strange name for an English woman," the Spaniard comments. "You think it's a pen name?"

Maisie shrugs. "It's very likely. You think you can get close to her?"

The man turns around and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from cursing. Standing tall is the handsome man from the lobby who tried his swooning accent and magnificent smile with seducing me the day before. "If only that friend of hers isn't around," he explained, stroking the fine line of facial on his jaw. "I'd think him a jealous lover if I've ever seen one."

Jealous lover? Hah. If he wants to see such a thing he should have seen both Jack and Anson's actions those nights back in England. Anson noticed the tension between Jack and I, saw the way we looked at eachother. Those nights at dinner during my father's business meetings Anson would try his best to catch my attention, to show me his in front of Jack. I would excuse myself and Jack would soon follow, my brother covering for him as we met down the hall to make love behind a locked door. When Anson finally found us together, well, it's not difficult to predict what happened next. A fight broke out. Rodney acts nothing of the sort. And why should he? He and I are not lovers.

"I'll take care of him," Maisie reassures him.

The man she called Maxwell raises an eyebrow. "How can you be so sure? If he is in love with her he will not look at you twice."

She smiles a small yet devilish smile. "I'm not worried about it."

Rodney, I think. I have to warn him. I have to make sure he is far from here, for I cannot allow Maisie to use him in order to get to me. Or if the worst is on her mind, I won't allow her to hurt him either. But how am I going to get to him without letting Maisie and this man out of my sight?

Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me. I reel around carefully to see Hilary scrutinizing me with a curious but blaming gaze, her eyes narrowed. She opens her mouth to speak, but I quickly shush her with a finger to my full lips. She ignores me; "Wha-"

My palm is over her mouth before she can finish, my ears listening for any sign of disturbance in the room before us, my body on alert. There is silence. A single creak in the floorboards...

And then, just in time for the door to swing open I grab Hilary and pull her around the corner, my palm still covering her mouth. Finding the closest room, I conduct her inside before quietly and least conspicuously shutting the door behind us.

Hilary is still watching me with curious eyes. "You're not just a simple prostitute, are you?"

"_O brother don't clean out your ears and you might be amazed  
To find the secrets of the city in its alley ways,  
In the bins behind the swill cafes,  
Amid the clean-picked chicken bones and cartilage a spirit groans,  
A small heart beats and a red beak groans  
'O pity, where's my little body gone?'  
You'll know why, it's very little wonder you don't cry,  
Don't be ashamed of a guilty little rain."  
_"**Little Wonder" -Augie March**

* * *

Ah, it's been forever! It feels good to update again. Sorry about the wait, I've had this written for a while but I've been so busy with work and school that I haven't had much time or inspiration to sit down and work on it.

Also just letting you all know that I will be editing little things in both Fair and Lady Fair, perfecting things until I am happy with it. I feel I have grown as a writer since my first chapter of Fair and I want to tweak some things and possibly take out the more confusing parts that I feel I have yet to touch.

Thanks so much to my lovely reviewers: **johnnyluver4ever, Captain Jenny Flint, Renajah, alonefreehearted, Depps1andOnly, Sentinel Sparrow, mirandler43, Sandragoon, SilenceHereIAm, jjrose, Sereture, sharnalicious, xxJackxxIsxxMinexx, Andie Anderson, stretched rubbersoul, inus blue eyed miko. **


	26. Contact

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

"_**Being a woman is a terribly difficult task, since its consists principally in dealing with men."  
**__**-Joseph Conrad**_

"You're not just a simple prostitute, are you?"

I smile. "Actually, I'm not a prostitute at all."

Hilary looks me over from head to toe, still trying to figure things out as I press my ear to the door, listening for any sings of a presence out in the hall. Sharper senses are also a perk to holding Athena's curse.

"Who are you hiding from?" Hilary asks.

Not hearing or sensing anyone, I turn around to face her with dark hair framing my face and bright hazel eyes. "Maisie. There is a man with her back in one of the rooms. I heard them talking about me. Hilary, from what I heard, it's possible that they could have been the ones who killed Tara."

Her eyes go wide. "What?" I let this information sink in as her facial expressions change from shocked to confused to disbelieving. "Why would you say that?"

"They were talking about killing me. They said I knew too much, and were planning on 'taking care' of Rodney," I explain quietly. "What does that say to you, that they want to start a book club?"

"But Maisie is Tara's best friend!"

"_Was_. She _was_ Tara's best friend. Look Hilary, I know it may be hard to believe, but from what I overheard, Maisie most definitely had something to do with those murders. Tara's dead, and I don't think we should let them get away with it."

Hilary's brow creases on her pretty, comely face. "But why would she do that? Kill someone, I mean. Someone that close to her?"

I shrug. "Perhaps they were not as close as you thought they were."

Hilary shakes her head. "I don't think so. This doesn't add up."

She looks so confident in this statement that I can't help but consider that there is more to discover. "I'll look into it, all right? Just try to trust me on this one. And please don't say anything to anyone. This is between me and you."

I turn to leave the room, eager to find Rodney, but stop when Hilary suddenly reaches out and grabs my arm. I turn back around to meet her confused eyes, noticing the way her petal lips are turned downwards. "I want to go with you."

"Excuse me?" I ask, thinking that maybe I mistook these words for something else.

"If Maisie really did kill Tara, I want to watch her go down for it. And if she didn't, well, I want to be there to tell you I told you so."

Suddenly, a memory of Jack Sparrow and Kamella Kay in that kitchen back in Port Royal suddenly flashes past my eyes, the way she arched into him and curled her fingers against his shoulder. And then, as they broke apart and I could have crumbled to the floor like fragile glass, the way Kamella walked past me with such confidence and mirth. _I told you so_, she said into my ear, looking back over her shoulder to throw Jack a seductive, charming smile.

88888

I can see a young man walk past the stairwell, a look on concentration pulling at his brow. He must be looking for me. "Rodney!" I call, running towards him.

"There you are," he says, his eyes lighting up as I approach him. "Abegail keeps asking why I'm hanging around so much." But I have more pressing matter to deal with than Abegail's questions. I look around to see if anyone else is around, and seeing several, I pull him back into a corner in the hall, holding him by his arm. "What's this about?" he asks, gazing as Hilary follows us without a word.

"Maisie," I whisper. "I think she's in on the murder. She had a man in her room, and they were talking about us. They said I knew too much and that she was going to 'deal' with you."

He raises an eyebrow. "Sound suspicious enough to me. What about her?" he questions, nodding towards Hilary, all pretty in pink with her blue eyes and blonde hair.

"She kind of walked in on the middle of the conversation," I explain. "She wants to help."

"Or rather mock," Hilary defends.

I ignore her. "Rodney, stay away from Maisie. We don't know what she's capable of. And she seemed more than confident that she could and would do to you whatever it is that was on her mind."

"Do you think she'll turn to mist like that other woman did?" he asks boyishly.

"What woman?" Hilary throws in.

"The woman who was trying to kill Andie's brother," he explains to her as though she had any clue I had a brother or what women he was speaking of, before turning back to me. "Ebony or whatever her name was."

"Ivory," I conclude. "And I don't think so. Maisie seems very much human to me. Nothing supernatural here, except maybe her ego."

Hilary's eyes go wide. "She wasn't human?"

I skip past the entire mentioning of Ivory all together. "Look, the man, Maxwell, who Maisie had in the room with her. He was the same one you pulled me away from the other day."

"The sailor?" Rodney asks.

I nod. "Well, at least he looked like a sailor. He said he was going to get close to me, but he was going to be sure you weren't around. So, I need you to get out of here."

His eyes go wide. "What? But Andie, if he doesn't want me around, then-"

"Then he's going to try and get close to me."

"I thought I told you, revenge is not going to help you get over Jack."

Hilary suddenly pipes up, more than confused. "Who's Jack?"

I once again ignore her. "I have to get information out of him, Rodney, I'm not using him to forget about Jack. If I wanted to do that, I would just come to you," I explain, saying this as though he should have known all along.

"Really?" he replies, his eyes wide.

I laugh. "Get out of here."

Hilary frowns. "What about me?"

I look at Rodney. "Well, she obviously can't go with me."

He sighs. "What am I supposed to do with her?"

She smiles, her right hand snaking over his shoulder. "I have a few ideas."

But Rodney seems to care less about Hilary's advances, gently prying her long, pretty fingers from his coat. "Don't you have somewhere else to be?" he asks her.

She shakes her head. "No, not really."

Rodney gives me a sideward glance. "Can I talk to you for a second?" he questions before reaching out and taking me by the arm, leading me down the hall a ways and away from the prostitute. "Why _me_?"

I laugh. "I don't know, perhaps she likes you."

"But she likes you too. Why can't you watch over her?"

I'm finding this shy, boyish humor more than cute and amusing. "Because she wants _you_ to, Rodney. Besides, how am I supposed to get _close_ to Maxwell if there is a woman watching over my shoulder? What, you're scared she's going to kiss you?"

His eyes narrow at me. "For a fee, maybe."

I shake my head at him. "What's your problem?"

He sighs. "Nothing. I don't know what I was even thinking. Come find me if you need me, I'll be trying to ignore the whore batting her eyelashes at me."

I grab him by the elbow as he tries to turn away, giving him the most charming, flirtatious look I can. "Rodney, don't be angry."

He tries not to, but he smiles down at me despite himself. "Listen, you planning on doing any forgetting anytime tonight?"

I'm laughing, but shake my head at him. "Maybe later."

"Promise?" he asks.

"Get gone," I tell him.

His face is very close to mine, I realize suddenly, but before any of us say or do a thing, Rodney's eyes catch something over my shoulder, and his eyes quickly turn to something more of annoyance and anger more than joyful, as they had been.

"Rodney?" I say.

He steps away from me. "I'll get out of your hair."

I narrow my eyes at him, curious as to the sudden change in his mood. "You're not angry about Hilary, are you? Because-"

Rodney rolls those blue eyes at me. "It's fine, Andie."

"Rodney-"

He bats me away from him. "It's _fine_." Then, he nods towards something at the door. "Go. It seems you have a visitor."

Confused at this and slightly hurt by his sudden angry and forceful tone, I turn towards the front in order to see what he's speaking of. And then, as soon as my eyes meet another's and survey what, or who, is before me, I have to keeping myself from gasping. Because there, not even ten feet away, is standing the Captain of the _Black Pearl_.

I turn quicky back around, wondering if Jack's presence was what has mad Rodney turn so cold towards me, and curious as to why such a thing would make him this way. He gives me one last look, seemingly not caring about the confusion and shock as my expression as he leads Hilary down the opposite way. "Who is that?" she asks him, turning to gaze at the pirate with interested and curious eyes.

"No one," Rodney tells her. "It's no one."

I turn back around, carefully looking him over. Jack is speaking with Abegail but his russet eyes are cast over her shoulder and are leering at me, that slight golden grin pulling at the side of his mouth. The way he's looking at me makes me feel utterly exposed, as though he can see right through my clothing and every lie I've ever told him. It's like he can see through my anger and hatred for him, all of my secrets. It's as if he knows I still love him, despite what I tried to tell him that day on the docks.

"...About this tall," he tells Abegail, raising his hand in the air about five foot, three inches, "Dark hair, fair skin. General air of aggression about her?"

Abegail nearly jumps up in down with the sheer possibility of more money to add to her fortune. "I've got the perfect girl for you, Captain! The _perfect_ girl." Turning to her left, she looks up and down before turning and doing the same on her right, her eyes searching in all the wrong places. "Dammit, where is that girl? Never where she is supposed to be..." she murmurs. Then, she looks up at Jack, following his eyes to me. "Andie! There you are, my dove! Come here, won't you?"

"Actually-"

But Abegail grabs me by the arm before I can argue, pulling me over and shoving me in front of Jack. "She's a pretty one, is she not, Captain?" she asks.

His eyes, moving agonizingly slow, venture from my hazel eyes, over every curve, over every piece of me that he has ever touched or kissed, to my boots and back, just as slow, to meet my gaze once again. His eyes are so dark and intense that I feel my stomach clench. "Aye," he replies. "Stunning."

I give him a look of warning. _Don't you dare start with me, Jack Sparrow..._

"Splendid!" Abegail chimes, and opens my palm to place a key in my hand. "You take Captain Sparrow to the nicest room in the back, Andie, and make this night worth his while."

"But-" I begin, but by the strict look she is giving me, I have to shut my mouth and roll my eyes in frustration. This woman can be impossible if you get between her and her business. "Fine."

She nods, accepting this, but gives me one last look of warning and smiles at Jack none the less. "Now, Captain, if you have any problems or complaints, you just let me know."

It seems he is incapable of looking at anything, or anyone, else. "You won't hear a peep out of me," he tells her, that amused glint in his eye.

"Let's hope so," Abegail says, more to me than him, and walks off to annoy a group of sailors that walk through the doors.

"What are you doing here, Jack?" I ask instantly, my alto voice clearly agitated.

He smiles. "You heard the lady; aren't you supposed to be taking me to the finest room in the back? And it's _Captain_."

I roll my eyes. "I'm not in the mood to be playing games with you tonight."

"Maybe later then?"

"You're hopeless," I sigh, turning back in order to make some excuse to Abegail as to why she should call a guard to escort him out.

He grabs me tightly by my shoulders, his long, slider fingers curling against the bare skin of my arms. "Listen, Andie, we need to talk. And I know I am probably the last person you want to be locked in a room with in a place like this, but it needs to be done. I won't rest until some things are clear."

"You mean a whorehouse?" I reply.

"What?"

"You said 'in a place like this'. That's where we are; a brothel. Can't you say it out loud by now? You've been to them enough," I bite. All right, so I know these words and insults are completely wrong for me to say, but I'm angry. What does he expect me to do, welcome him with open arms and take him back, just like that? No. This will take some effort. Maybe I'll even make him beg. Begging sounds nice, right?

"That's not fair," Jack says, wagging a finger at me. "After all, you're the one who's being employed by one. Strange, I remember you telling me repeatedly the first few weeks after our first encounter how you weren't a whore."

I swear, if I could only bring myself to raise my first and punch him right in the nose, I would. But something is stopping me. Bloody fuzzy feelings! "That's not what I'm doing here."

"It's not?" he asks. "That's strange, I swear I saw that Spanish woman place a key in your hand and tell you to make my night worth while."

"I'm trying to stop a murderer," I explain, my jaw clenched. Leave it to Jack to make me hotter than a pistol.

He raises an eyebrow, knowing exactly what he's doing. He wants to make me angry. He always has; he loves getting a rise out of me. I hate him for it, but hate myself even more for provoking him. "And making a few shillings a night while at it?"

That does it; I reach out, my hand in motion to slap that satisfied look right off his face when he suddenly reaches up and catches me by the wrist. I try to pull back, to step away and make him let go, but he only tightens his finger's grip. "I hope you know that I despise you, Jack Sparrow!" I hiss under my breath.

He grins a slow, wretched grin. "Aye, love, I know. Now why don't you lead the way to that room, hmm?"

"Fine," I snap. "But only if you let go of me first."

"You're really not in any position to be attempting to bargain, love. Tell ye what; I promise to let ye go when we're behind that locked door. And the key is in my pocket."

"I don't-"

"I just want to talk to ye, I swear it on the King's Navy, darling."

I shake my head at him. "And the talking leads to contact, and the contact leads to kissing, and the kissing leads to sex. I know how this works, Jack. I know how you work."

He grins. "Then I suppose you're very much aware of all the times I've proved how much you love how I work, just as much as I love showing you."

I can feel the anger boiling inside me, deeper than thick skin and flowing adrenaline. "You're pushing my patience, Captain."

"Let's not waste time, then. Lead the way, Miss Bryant," he quips, nodding his head down the long corridor.

I frown and narrow my eyes at him, but do as he says. I'd rather be able to shout and pummel him as I wish in privacy, anyway. The hall is nearly empty, save for passing costumers and girls seeking out Abegail to fix a problem in the saloon or to search for someone new to keep them company (a.k.a. pay for a new dress) for the night. I try my best to keep my eyes off of Jack and to ignore anytime we come in contact, ignoring his rough, familiar fingers that are still wrapped around my wrist. And then, as I unlock the door and lead him inside, my annoyance with him only seems to heighten.

Jack holds out his dark, scratched palm. "Give it to me, then."

I roll my eyes. "Are you serious? What do you think I'm going to do, run out on you?"

"You've done it before," he informs.

Sighing, I drop the key into his open hand. What am I to do, argue with him about that for another ten minutes? I'd rather not. In fact, I just want to get this over with. "You had something to say?" I ask, stepping away from him. No touching, that's the only rule I have here. Not in a way other then my kicking his ass, that is.

"Aye," he says. "We need to discuss what you think you saw back in Port Royal."

"What I _think_ I saw?" I scoff. "What I _saw_, Jack. I'm not blind, nor am I stupid. You were kissing Kamella. Or she was kissing you, I don't know. All I know is that I walked in on you kissing another woman, and you weren't complaining. I don't care if she did it to tear us apart or not, you weren't thinking of throwing her off you anytime soon."

For the first time in a long time, I see a look of hurt in his chocolate eyes. "You're right," he admits. "She kissed me, and I didn't do anything about it. But it doesn't mean anything, Andie. _She_ doesn't mean anything to me."

"You can skip the apologies and the 'I would do anything for you' crap. I don't want to hear it."

He takes a step towards me. "I don't know what you want me to do, love, to convince you. I can't chase you forever."

I open my mouth to reply, but his words catch me off guard. _I can't chase you forever_. I close my eyes, remembering a dream I once had where Jack was chasing me through a forest, snow on my lashes and his skin brittle and cold.

When my eyes flutter open, he is standing right in front of me. "Tell me what to do."

Suddenly, Jack dropping to his knees and begging me for his forgiveness doesn't seem as amusing and satisfying as the thought of it had before. Now it just seems silly and pointless. What do I want him to do? What _do_ I want him to do? I want him to never allow me to leave again. I want him to convince me that everything happens for a reason, that we met and were together for a reason, that my opening up to him and falling in love with him wasn't just another reason for the Powers That Be to once again laugh in face.

He decides for me. Stepping forward once again, Jack takes my face in his hands, giving me not much time to struggle or fight against him but goes in for the kill, instantly numbing my body with the warmth and the strength his tongue sends through my body like a shockwave. I'm surprised at myself as I kiss him back, reaching forward to pull him flush against me, twisting the fabric of his blue coat between my fingers.

I lead him further into the room, more than happy that Jack is not allowing our kiss to fall apart and pressing him against the nearest wall, feeling some sort of dominance as he allows me to take the lead, curious as to what I will do next.

"I thought you said no contact," he pants, grinning at me as he breaks our kiss but still cupping my cheek in one hand. "Apparently it leads to kissing and kissing leads to-"

I reach up to pull his mouth down on mine once again. "Less talk and more contact."

Grinning, Jack obliges. He tastes, he feels, just as I remembered. His scars are still rough beneath my fingertips, his skin still hot and golden from the Caribbean sun. I can't get enough of him. And suddenly, although my anger is still there, just beneath the surface, an intense feeling of abandon and want is there as well, controlling my will to push him away and tell him to go to hell. It controls me as he lifts me up, urging my legs to wrap around his waist and mouth to continue the ever-waging war with his.

I feel drunk, all blissful and happy as his fingers find their way to the bodice of the low-cut dress I'm wearing, and as he pulls it off me and throws it without a thought to the floor. I feel intoxicated as I'm chanting his name as he lowers me down to the bed, his mouth at my neck and his knee pushing my legs apart.

I'm pulling and peeling every inch of fabric on his body, trying to keep his mouth moving against mine and his hands from never ceasing their ministrations on my flesh. Jack's breath, hot and heavy against my neck and breasts is crucial, driving me even more into my destruction. I'm moving against him, trying to feel him through every layer of clothing and nearly tearing them off him before the tension becomes too much and I realize what I'm doing.

Jack reaches back, pulling his shirt off over strong, firm shoulders before leaning back down to kiss me again, driving me insane with the warmth and the lust and the agony that I'm panting, fumbling with the buckle of his belt because of the caress of his fingers on my thighs, his teeth behind my ear and the sheer knowing that I can have him again, that I can take what I want and allow myself to enjoy it, that I can love him in this moment and not be angry at myself for doing so.

Nothing more between us, I am aware as he moves over me like a cat in the night, graceful and dangerous. His eyes meet mine, finding no fear where he looks, just above and slightly below the surface, before burrowing himself inside me in one torturesome movement, catching me with palms against my back as I arch against him, clear off the mattress of the bed. Jack watches me, an unusual emotion in his eyes that I've never before seen. There is a wild abandon, a hazardous glint that drives me to take him further, a wise look of cognition, and of course that deep, dark knowing of adoration that I see every time his eyes darken, every time he kisses or whispers or makes love to me.

Jack takes this time to deny me of any control or dominance I offer. He wants to be the one making love to _me,_ I realize, as he apologizes with a kiss to my neck, pressing my hips down onto the bed as I try to move against him, taking him deeper within my body. He wants to take this slow, wants to make it last.

I mewl at this, trying to sway my hips against his despite my battle has already been lost. He shushes me, nuzzling my neck and throat with his nose and lips, a tender gesture that both does and does not surprise me. He waits, revealing a patience I never knew existed within him, until I am quiet and calm, allowing him to take me as he wishes, to make his move despite the ache inside my stomach that refuses to be quenched unless I can have him now, how I want, fast and crucial, the selfish young woman I am. But Jack moves inside me slowly, deeply, prolonging every striking emotion that's pounding through our veins that much longer.

Soon his hands leave my hips, trusting me to join his rhythm and surrender beneath his touch. His fingertips trace my lips and I tremble, wanting him to kiss me, but he refuses. And it's now that I understand. He's showing me a lesson. He's so close but far away, giving me what I want but refusing me what I need. I do the same to him, in a slightly different context, and he's decided he's not going to take it any longer. He's calling the shots. And I'm allowing him to. I have to.

"Please," I plead, reaching up with a hand to touch his face, "Let me-" He cuts me off, however, leaning down so I can brush my lips to his, passionately, tasting him as I see fit until he begins picking up his speed, only slightly, that is, before breaking off again, teasing me as the sway of his hips begins to slow once more. "No," I whimper, reaching down to touch him, to press my fingers into his hip, anything, but he gathers my hands into one of his, holding them above my head and pressing them into the mattress, just below the two pillows on the bed. "I can't-" _take this anymore. _

But despite my frustration at him for his teasing, seductive ways, I don't want him to stop what he's doing. My head is reeling, my gasps and moans leaking from between my lips without my knowledge, only driving Jack further. I can see, however, when I open my eyes that his jaw is clenched, and his eyes are tightly closed, his self preservation being overpowered by his need for release.

Suddenly I can move my hands as his fingers move down my arm to my shoulder and neck, Jack's lips moving to kiss the flesh the pads of his fingertips move past. His other arm is around my waist, holding and pulling me against him as his movements turn abrupt and powerful, causing my back to arch into him again, my head falling back in complete and utter bliss. All of my thoughts are short and sharp, all of Jack and how I never want this to end.

I can feel the tension tightening in my stomach and in my thighs and I know Jack can too as suddenly his hand disappears between my thighs and his breathing is harsh on my lips, his eyes closed in perfect concentration as my body begins to tense around his in it's wake for release of it all. And finally, when I fall down onto the bed, panting and utterly spent, I feel Jack fall over the edge as well as he collapses against me, his skin moist and feverish.

When we catch our breath, I am surprised to hear Jack chuckle. "Do I have to start paying you now?" he asks.

"**There's blood in my mouth cause I've been biting my tongue all week  
****I keep talking trash but I never say anything  
****And the talking leads to touching  
****And the touching leads to sex  
****And then there is no mystery left  
****And it's bad news, baby, I'm bad news  
****I'm just bad news, bad news, bad news."  
**"_Portions for Foxes" -Rilo Kiley_

* * *

Got this chapter written really fast. Making up for the last chapter being so bloody short. I was inspired and got most of it written all in one evening. Don't know where it all came from, but I can't wait for another sudden burst of inspiration to hit me again because this is probably one of my favorite chapters. Jack is so charming, haha.

Reviews would be lovely and inspire me even more!

Hugs and kisses to you all: **Sandragoon, Sentinel Sparrow, alonefreehearted, inus blue eyed miko, VooDooJayneSmith, mirandler43, Depps1andOnly, johnnyluver4ever, Renajah, SilenceHereIAm.**


	27. Selfish Man

**Chapter Twenty-Seven**

"_**The bravest are surely those who have the clearest vision of what is before them, glory and danger alike, and yet notwithstanding, go out to meet it."  
**__**-Thucydides **_

What have I done? I have a job to do; there is a murderer still running around out there and I am locked in a bedroom with the most notorious pirate in the Caribbean? And in a brothel, no doubt! It's been proven; I have officially gone mad. How did any of that happen, anyway? Wasn't I threatening to kick his ass not thirty minutes ago?

"Where are ye goin', love?"

My hands freeze as I pull off my torn garters, tossing them to the side. My dress is undone as I turn to regard the pirate longing in the bed, bare to the waist where the sheet starts low on his hips. I keep my eyes on his face as to not distract myself, keeping my hands busy with buttoning and tying the ribbons on my emerald dress. "I'm here for a reason, in case you've forgotten."

Jack raises an eyebrow, leaning over on the bed to quickly reach out and snatch me about my waist, pulling me onto the bed with him and capturing my mouth with his. "Believe me, I haven't forgotten."

But I know we're not talking about the same reasons. "Jack," I say, pushing against his chest, "I have somewhere I have to be. Somewhere I should have been a long time ago."

"Can't it wait?" he asks, hands wandering my backside and teeth nipping at my neck.

"No," I say, fighting against the urge to close my eyes and sink back down into the covers with him, his strong body over mine and warm skin waiting to be explored. "No, it can't wait."

The pirate grins up at me as I lean over him, silently convincing myself that I need to leave now before it's too late. "Ye don't sound so sure about that, darling."

I frown at him, pushing away and continue searching for my boots and other various missing pieces of clothing. "I'm sure," I tell him, turning my back so I can swallow, hard, and clench my jaw so I sound more confident.

He falls back against the pillows, folding bronzed arms behind his head as he watches me closely, his brows pulled together in concentration. "What is it that yer lookin' for, exactly?"

"My boots," I say in annoyance, kneeling so I can peer underneath the bed. Finding one, I snap in satisfaction and sit so I can pull it on, tying the laces tight.

"I don't mean yer boots, love. I mean, what are ye looking for _here_? In this place?"

I look up. "Three women were murdered."

Jack nods. "Ah. Have any leads yet?"

I snatch my other boot from beside a chest and pull it on as well. "Jack," I begin, peering over at him. "Things can't be how they used to be."

He raises an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "And how did things used to be?"

I sigh. "I trusted you with everything. And now... now I'm not sure I can trust you at all. In fact, I don't think I can trust anyone."

He stays silent, waiting for me to go on. I don't. I get up, tucking a small knife into my garter, the one that isn't ruined, just in case. A girl never knows when she'll need a sharp weapon with multi-purposes. I would take my pistol as well, but it may be just a tad bit conspicuous when I am trying to prove to Maxwell that I am just a whore who needs a shilling or two a night to get by on a shitty meal and tattered, revealing clothing.

"What do ye need that for?" Jack asks of the knife.

I give him a quick look. "Do you have to ask so many questions?"

He narrows his eyes at me. "Just curious as to what is goin' on, is all."

"Well, it's none of your business," I snap, turning the handle of the door to make my exit. Only the door won't open. It's locked. And suddenly, I realize _why_ said door is locked. Groaning in frustration, I make my way over to the foot of the bed where Jack's clothing had been shed, checking in the pockets of his coat and britches, but finding nothing. I check in his vest just in case, but have no luck there, either. Then, gazing up at a most calm and grinning Jack Sparrow, I open my palm and reach out to him. "Give me the key, Jack."

He shakes his head. "Not this time, Andie."

"Are you incompetent? There's a murderer walking around out there!" I hiss.

"In case ye have forgotten, love, there's two murderers in this room as well. What difference does it make?" Jack argues with me.

I'm glaring at him now. Why is he being so difficult? "The difference is that those were three innocent women."

"And how do ye know that?" he asks me. "Maybe they weren't as chaste as you've been lead to believe. Ever think of that?"

"I wouldn't have been sent here in order to investigate otherwise."

Jack laughs at me. "For someone who knows so much, you're very naive, Andie."

"Naive is not exactly a word that I would choose to describe me," I tell him crossly.

"And what words would ye choose?"

"Furious if you don't hand over that goddamn key!"

He's grinning that charming grin, and I cannot remember a time it has made me any angrier. "Under one condition," he says, holding up a long, slender finger.

My jaw is tense from clenching my teeth together. "Of course there's a catch."

He ignores this. "Only if you come back with me to the Caribbean."

_My God_, I think, _Why does this always happen to me?_ "I am not bartering with you," I say.

Jack shrugs. "Then take a seat, darling, you're going to be here for a while."

"All right," I say, exhaling in my attempt to stay calm, "You give me the key or I'm breaking down the door."

"Now why would ye do that?" he asks.

"Because I've had enough of you!"

He chuckles. "I beg to differ, Andie."

"Go ahead," I tell him, standing and dropping my hands in defeat. "Argue with me all you want, but at this moment I very much need to get away from you. And I'm either going to shoot off what you treasure as a man with your own pistol, or I'm going to go for the knees. Your choice," I say, snatching his gun up from the floor beside my feet.

He's once again laughing at me. I cock the pistol, aiming for his most treasured possession. "Wait a minute," Jack says, jumping up as he realizes I'm serious, holding the sheet around his hips as a most superfluous shield. "Ye don't want to do this, love."

"I don't know," I say, "I get pretty irrational when I'm angry."

"Which is why ye should rethink the situation. Yer gonna think differently when yer no longer pissed and wanting to tear my throat out."

All right, so maybe the man does have a point. I don't want to shoot him. Or more importantly, I don't want to shoot anything _off_ him. After all, I kind of like him and his parts. When I'm not angry, of course. Cause at the moment, I _do_ very much want to tear his throat out, and I probably would if Jack wasn't always turning the tables on me.

That's when I see something new in his hair that shimmers with any sudden movement. Something I've been looking for.

I watch him. His eyes are dark but careful, his shoulders strong and tense. He really thinks I'm going to shoot him. With this thought, I begin to laugh.

"Andie?" Jack says.

_What are you doing? Your not going to forgive him, remember? He kissed another woman. He kissed someone you thought was your friend. So why are you laughing at the situation? You're angry. Angry! Stand your ground, put your foot down! Tell him how much you've hated him all this time you were away. Tell him no matter what he does, you're not going to forgive him._

I have asked myself many times since that day I found he and Kamella in the kitchen, why did I not just do away with him? Why did I not hurt him like he hurt me, but worse? The answer is so simple, yet more complicated than I can begin to explain; I can't.

"You've always said I would make a fabulous actress."

His eyes narrow at me. "What?"

"I'm not going to shoot you, Jack," I tell him, sighing. I can't do it. I'm supposed to be angry with him, I know, but I keep looking at him and I see that look in his eyes, and I can't. I can't be angry. What is wrong with me?

His black eyebrows raise. "Change of heart?"

"Not exactly," I say. _The key. I have to get that key. _

The pirate takes a hesitant step towards me. When he sees I do not raise the pistol or give him the evil eye, he takes a couple more until he is standing directly before me. He reaches out, his eyes on mine, to take a hold of his pistol. I allow him to take it from my hand without anything resembling a fight, even allowing a small smile to lift at the side of my mouth.

"Epiphany?" he questions, setting the weapon down on the closest table.

"Something like that," I reply as he moves back to me, cupping my cheek with his palm and leaning down to press his mouth close to mine. I close my eyes, waiting for the kiss, but it never comes. When I open my eyes, he's watching me carefully.

"What are ye up to?" he asks.

I feign a look of innocence. "What?"

"I know ye, Andie," he tells me. "Not quite like the back of my hand, but I like to think I know yer tricks and games by now." Then, he trails one hand dangerously slow up my side, tracing tender curves and sensitive flesh. "Don't ye forget, what I _do_ know more than anything is your body. And you're most definitely up to something."

I swallow, trying to ignore his traveling hands. "What does my body have to do with anything?" I question.

"Ye get this look in you're eyes when you're about to do something with a high-risk."

My lips part in a silent gasp as he leans down to bite that spot just behind my ear, that spot that drives me absolutely insane. And although I am very much planning something of a high-risk, I can't help but to indulge in him just this once, leaning back to grab the table behind me as my knees start to weaken. He does know everything about me physically, everything that sets me on fire and keeps me coming back for more.

"Am I right?" he asks, grinning as he steps back from me.

I stare at him for a moment before shaking my head. "You're imagining it," I say. "I'm not up to anything."

"You're a good liar, love, I'll give ye that," he chuckles. "In fact, I like it."

I can't help but return his smile as he leans forward to kiss me again, capturing my mouth with such aspiration that I almost forget about my plan. The key.

_All right, Andie_, I think, _Don't give in. Do. Not. Give. In. _

"I have to leave," I pant as his hands move to undo my dress. "We can't do this now."

"I've always been a selfish man," Jack replies as he doesn't even attempt to stop the movements of his hands or the seduction of his lips. "And I'm not about to change that now."

I take this moment to take a deep breath and attempt to collect my thoughts. Which is rather difficult, might I add, with Jack looking the way he does at this very moment, with the lust in his eyes and the mess to his hair. _Hair_, I remind myself. _The key._

Finding nothing suspicious in winding my fingers through that head of wild, unruly hair, I try and get as close to that little silver piece as I possibly can. Jack doesn't seem to take notice. Deciding that ir would be most conspicuous if I suddenly became quiet, I try my luck at convincing him again.

"You know, the faster I crack this case, the more time we have to make up after."

Jack raises an eyebrow. "I thought we already made up?"

I smile at him. "I'm a woman. Do you really think saying 'I'm sorry' and a little sex is considered 'making up' in my world?"

Jack looks unsure how to respond to this. "Yes?"

"Dream on, Blackbeard. You have a lot of groveling to do."

He shakes his head at me. "I don't grovel."

"Well you're going to learn, aren't you?" I say, more as a statement than a question.

"I'm more of the teaching-type," Jack says suggestively, moving his palm down from my shoulder to my arm, taking the sleeve of my dress with him, "Than the learning-type."

"Than you," I tell him, untangling one of my hands from the braids in his ebony hair and sliding my sleeve back to wear it belongs, "Will have to teach yourself to learn." With that, I quickly snatch the key from one of the ends of his many deadlocks, wagging it in his face for a moment with one of my famous 'I'm smarter than you' expressions. Surprisingly, Jack does not look surprised at this action, as though he was just waiting for me to take it. "Especially that Andie Bryant, despite your seductive, charming ways, will always get what she wants."

Jack chuckles at this, watching me closely as I waltz over to unlock the door. "I knew that."

Swinging said gateway open, I turn back to regard him. "You know, a girl has to do what she has to do."

He smiles. "It's what I like most about ye."

I turn to leave, but a sudden "hey" stops me from doing so. "I wasn't just teasing ye. I'm taking ye back to the Caribbean with me whether ye like it or not," the pirate explains.

"We'll see about that," is my response, but what I'm really thinking is, 'I know you will'. Flashing him my best seductive, flirtatious smile, I close the door behind me.

He knew I had to see that key. I suppose he really didn't want to keep me locked in there against my will. But in a way, I didn't want to leave. Part of me wanted to stay in there with him forever. But my conscience is quite talkative, and I know that if I don't do something about these murders, I will not be able to rest. But damn, did he look good! Like temptation itself. And he came all this way for me, to get me back again.

Suddenly, half-way down that hall, my feet come to a complete stop. I pivot, nearly running to that same door before slipping back inside it. Jack glances at me curiously from his place beside the bed where he is dressing, pausing as he is tying his britches.

"Forgot something," I say, pulling him down into a hungry kiss, holding his face in both my hands before wrapping my arms around his neck, keeping him as close to me as possible. Jack, albeit surprised, recovers exceptionally before folding those strong, muscled arms about my waist.

"Don't you have a murderer to catch?" Jack asks, smiling as we break apart for air. Breathless, he leans his forehead against mine, watching me in such a way that I feel utterly bare under his gaze. I nod. "Always so business-like," he says, that lustful gaze still in his eyes as I step away from him.

"I'm really going now," I say as he takes a step forward, as though he is going to grab me again. And I know if he does, I'll not be leaving this room anytime soon. "And I'm still really pissed at you," I remind him, but still can't help but smile as I open the door, watching him until the very moment the door clicks against its latch. He has no idea how much I am tempted to forgive him. And the scary thing is, I think I already have.

_Maxwell_, I remind myself. I have to find him. Now, where do you find a Spanish murderer when you need one? They are never around when you want them to be. _Maybe this Maxwell fellow is not hiding from you, but waiting for you to come to him. He does want to murder you, after all, _I tell myself.

"Andie!"

I turn to see Hilary, walking towards me with solemn eyes and a shocked expression on her face. "Is everything all right?" I ask. "Where's Rodney?"

"Rodney's fine," Hilary replies, taking a deep, calming breath. "It's Maisie. She's dead."

"_It's easier to lie and be safe  
__Time and time again I'm half stalled  
__One giant leap of faith is easy  
__When everyone you ask is so sure  
__Just give a second thought  
__What if we don't get caught  
__Just say you love me now  
__And forget this whole row  
__Just save your energy  
__For making up with me."  
_"**Grazed Knees" -Snow Patrol**

* * *

Thanks to my reviewers, as always: **johnnyluver4ever, Depps1AndOnly, alonefreehearted, JooDooJayneSmith, Mirandler43, Sandragoon, Sentinel Sparrow, inus blue eyed miko, renajah, Remy Le Fay, the. dead. addict., jjrose. **


	28. Corpses

**Chapter Twenty-Eight**

"_**Is it possible that there are no coincidences?"  
**__**-M. Night Shyamalan**_

_El Fantasma_ has broken out into complete chaos. There are people banging on the front doors, girls running around and hiding in their rooms. Abegail looks about ready to have a panic attack. Customers are leaving, guards are surrounding the building. The noise is deafening.

"Did you hear me?" Hilary suddenly cries. "Maisie's dead, Andie. _Dead_. I know you said you would get to the bottom of Tara's murder, but I didn't think you were going to kill her!"

I shake my head, narrowing my hazel eyes at her. "Hilary, I didn't kill Maisie."

"You didn't?"

"I try not to do anything rash unless I have to," I explain.

"But if you didn't kill her, than who did?" Hilary asks. "I thought you said she was the one behind the murders?"

"I thought she was, yes," I confess. This doesn't make any sense. Maisie is dead? But I heard her speaking to Maxwell not two hours ago. I heard her talking about me, talking about Rodney. _Rodney. _"Where's my handsome friend you appear to be so fond of?" I ask.

"He's back in our room," she says.

"Dammit Maisie," I say to no one in particular, "Why did you have to go and get yourself killed?"

Hilary ignores me. "Do you think that man killed Maisie? The one who was with her in that room?"

_Good question_, I think. Could Maxwell be responsible for the murders of all four girls? But if he and Maisie were working together, why would he do away with her? Perhaps she threatened to rat him out. Maybe she _did_ rat him out. But to who, and why?

"Anything's possible," is my reply. "Where is she?"

"Maisie?" Hilary asks, raising her brows. "I'm sure they've dragged the body out of here by now. We found her about an hour ago; the inspectors where here and everything."

_Jack, why do you always have to show up at the worst possible times?_

The tiny blonde prostitute is at my heels as I descend up the stairs in search for Rodney, obviously a million questions on her mind. Many questions I don't have the answers to. "Rodney told me who you really are, you know," Hilary tells me.

I raise my eyebrows. "Is that so?"

"Yes."

"Who am I, then?"

She scurries up beside me. "A vigilante."

I laugh. "Not exactly."

"A detective?"

I shake my head. "Rodney didn't say anything to you, did he?"

"No, he didn't," she admits with a tilt to her head. "But I won't say I'm not curious."

I don't say anything to this, just chuckle to myself and continue down the next hall. Some people would find this place extravagant, with its large paintings on the walls and overweening drapery. I don't find it so exuberant but excessive and gaudy. I will admit, though, it does scream wealth. Abegail does everything to show off how much money she has and how much her girls make. I suppose some people are attracted to that.

Suddenly, Hilary exhales loudly. "Aren't you going to tell me?"

I stop before her room, pivoting to face her."Tell you what?"

She huffs in annoyance. "Who you are, what exactly it is that you do? Why you do it?"

I raise my eyebrows, feigning innocence. "No."

Hilary seems offended, narrowing her eyes at me like a spoiled young girl who has not gotten her way. "Why not?"

"Because it's none of your business," I tell her simply, opening the door to the room before me.

"But I'm helping you!" she exclaims, following me into the room. "I think I deserve to know!"

"You volunteered yourself," I reply. Rodney is lying across the bed I've spent the last few nights, staring at the ceiling blankly, as though he has not even noticed the two of us entering. Finding this interesting, I jump up on the bed, stepping so my boots are at either side of his ribs. "Find something interesting?"

He gives me a blank look. "Like what? A corpse?"

The tone of his voice is so empty, so bland, and so unlike Rodney that I find myself concerned. "You found Maisie?"

"Yeah," he states. "While you were busy having a fabulous time downstairs with your buddy Jack, Hilary and I were accidently discoveringa dead bodyand blood all through the corridor."

I am so shocked by this response that I am silenced. I, Andie Bryant, am unsure how to reply. Shocking, right?

"He's just cranky because he doesn't like the sight of blood," Hilary says from behind me. "Actually, I think it's the smell too, because he was acting like this _before_ we found her."

"Humans can't smell blood," I tell her.

Rodney rolls his eyes at this. "Could you move, please? You're blocking my phenomenal view of the plaster that is the ceiling."

I'm curious as to Rodney's foul mood, but I step off the bed anyway. Perhaps Hilary is right and his indignant statements are to be blamed on the body they apparently discovered downstairs. Either way, such emotions will have to be dealt with later. I don't have time to deal with moody men.

"Where did you find her?"

Hilary takes a breath. Surprisingly, she doesn't seem so upset at finding her roomates body cold and unmoving, as one would assume."In a closet down by the main hall," she tells me.

"The closet?" I repeat. I'm shocked, I must admit, to hear that Maisie's body was probably found in the very same way Kamella and I had found Stanley's body not months before.

"Are you all right?" Hilary asks. "You're suddenly very pale."

I swallow nervously. "Was she... _hanging_, by chance?"

Hilary is looking at me strangely. "Yes. How did you know that?"

"Are you sure this was a murder?" I ask, turning so I can ascertain Rodney as well, " Was there anything in particular that made the two of you think someone killed Maisie intentionally?" I inhale, trying my best to ignore this hostile, nagging feeling forming in my gut. Perhaps Maisie was a completely different person than I had originally thought.

"Maisie would never kill herself," Hilary tells me, infringement in her tone. "Why would you even come to that conclusion?"

"I'm not concluding anything," I say, defending my assumption, or rather, consideration. "I just think if there weren't any particular signs that pointed you to the direction of murder, that perhaps we should conceive Maisie's death a suicide."

Hilary instantly jumps to her friend's defense. "Maisie did not kill herself, Andie."

But Rodney, however, seems to have an opinion of his own. That is by the thoughtful expression on his face. "There was something. A marking."

"What kind of a marking?" I ask him further.

"I couldn't tell," he explains. "There was too much blood. It was carved into her arm."

Hilary shakes her head. "I didn't see anything."

"Then you are blind," Rodney tells her, peeved by her reaction.

"They've already taken the body down to the morgue," I think aloud. Sighing, I then consider what would be the beginning of a plan. "I think we're going to need Jack for this one."

Rodney falls back onto the bed, rolling his eyes once more. "Count me out."

I watch him for a moment, studying the feigned look of lack of interest on his face, and the slight downturn of his lips. "Rodney, can I speak to you outside for a moment?"

His eyes snap open. "Why?"

"I have something to ask you," I say, pulling him up by his arm.

"Something you can't ask in front of me?" Hilary asks, offended.

"Yes," I say bluntly, pulling the first mate of the _Black Pearl_ out through the door and snapping it shut behind me.

Rodney leans back against the wall, waiting for me to speak. He doesn't look at me. "What's your problem?" I ask.

"_My_ problem?" he repeats. "You just go running back to Jack, after telling me how much you hated him, and you ask what _my_ problem is?"

"So this is about Jack," I conclude.

"No," he says, shaking his head. "This is about you. It's always about you."

And with that, he walks away, and I let him, watching with confused eyes as he chucks a blue vase off the surface of the nearest table and into the confines of the wall. It shatters into an infinity of pieces and crumbles to the floor like broken hope.

88888

I try and push all thoughts of Rodney and his sudden mood swings and harsh words from my mind. It's hard, considering all of what he said, and all of what I still do not understand. But I have a job that needs to be done, a job that cannot wait. He can wait. Or so I hope.

As I peer down the next hall, with Norma Jeans following at my heals, the door to Jack's room opens. A moment later he emerges, straightening his navy blue coat with a satisfied look on his face. It's not long before he notices my rushing towards him.

"There ye are, love!" he says, "I was just-"

I cut him off, grabbing him by the arm. "I need your help."

I pull him through the corridor, avoiding Abegail at all costs. She would have questions if she was to see me leaving, and I'm not in the mood to make up some bullshit excuse at the moment.

"There's been another murder," I explain as we slip out through the doors and past the crowd, out into the hot Spanish sun. "I need you to distract the surgeon long enough for me to look over the corpse," I explain.

Jack laughs. "I believe distracting the men is normally yer job, am I right?"

"Not this time, Jack."

He raises an eyebrow. "You're really bent on solving this mission, aren't you?"

"There's something about it that creeps under my skin," I tell him, but leave it at that. I wasn't lying back in that room when I said things won't be the same between us. I really don't trust him. And it's not just because of his betraying embrace with Kamella that has made me feel this way, although both Kamella and Chester's dishonesty has put a dent in most all of my relationships, including Rodney's. I'm hesitant to trust anyone anymore.

"What happened?" he asks, his eyes dark and intense.

Perhaps if I keep up the conversation I won't think about the way he looks right now, all warm and golden and delicious in the sun. Or the fact that the moment I said, 'I need your help' he jumped on the gun, no questions asked.

"She was hanged," I say. "Or she hung herself. I don't really know."

"And ye think the way that girl did herself in has to do with Stanley and the Fortunes of Athena, don't ye?"

I give him a sideward glance. "I'm not sure if I want to know how you know any of that."

Jack shrugs. "Kind of know how yer mind works by now. But what exactly are ye planning on finding that would prove this, love?"

"Rodney said there was a mark," I reply without thinking. "Something was cut into her arm."

"But Stanley didn't have any markings," Jack says. "Besides, how does that prove her death was a suicide? Don't marks of some kind normally point to murder?"

I stop, looking up at the building before me. The morgue. "Then I'm here to prove myself wrong."

Jack sighs. "Are you sure you want to do this? What if you discover something you're not going to like discovering?"

I move towards the door. "Well, it's too late to turn back now."

Jack is staring distastefully at Norma Jean, narrowing his eyes at her back. "Why did ye have to bring along the mut?" he asks.

I look down at her for a moment, panting from the heat, before shrugging my shoulders and meeting his eyes with mine. "She makes me feel safe. Like Stanley is here with her or something."

His eyes go soft, nodding his head. He's quiet for a moment, taking this in, before changing the subject. "You want me to lure the man away from the building?"

"No," I reply, shaking my head as I peer at the nearly rotting wooden doors and chipped windows. "Just distract him until I come back out."

Jack has no objections. "All right."

"You ready?" I ask him.

With a nod of his beaded head, I throw open the doors and begin screaming and carrying on about a creepy man outside trying to kill me. Silence. There's no one in sight in the corridor, but there are a few doors that I am sure have to lead to an actual live person in this place.

I turn, looking at Jack. "Was I not convincing enough?"

"You were surely loud enough," he agrees. "Perhaps they don't speak English?"

"Does it matter? I'm a damsel in distress, dammit!" I exclaim.

"And you really look like one in that dress, too," Jack says, eyes active over the low-cut bodice and full skirts I'm wearing.

I roll my eyes. "Don't rub it in. I feel like a whore."

"Well, technically..."

"Hello! Anyone here?" I yell, giving Jack a look of warning. "Crazy guy, right here, wanting to kill me..." There is a sound in response from one of the rooms. "Please, there's a mad man running the streets! He... tried to kick my dog!"

Norma Jean, standing on alert beside me, perks her spotted ears up.

"Couldn't you think of anything better than that?" Jack asks, looking around to spot which door the noise was coming from.

"Like you said, they probably don't speak English," I hiss.

Suddenly, the first door on the right opens with a _click_.

"¿Tiene usted todo el razón, falta¿Por qué usted está gritando?" (Are you all right, miss? Why are you screaming?)

"Thank God!" I exclaim, running to the Spanish man with long, pulled back hair and wise, discerned eyes. "Please, sir, you must help me! This man, he's trying to kill me!"

I turn on the waterworks just for dramatic effect, clutching the white coat he is wearing between my fingers. "¿Él ha hecho algo lastimarle?" (Has he done something to hurt you?)

"Please, do something!" I cry, extending a blaming hand towards Jack, who is standing right outside the open doorway.

The man tenses beneath my hands for a quick moment before dashing at Jack like a rabid animal. I whirl around to see the pirate's brown eyes grow huge for a moment before he takes off without a word, giving me the perfect chance to slip inside that door the Spaniard had excited just a minute earlier.

I do so, gliding inside quietly before closing the door behind myself and Norma Jean, keeping it slightly ajar for an easy exit. I see Maisie's body instantly, lying atop a table, completely motionless. The room is dark, drapes closed over the windows and the air of the room most melancholy. I take a step forward, swallowing thickly at the sight before me.

It never settled with me well, seeing dead bodies. I see them often, obviously, with my professional and all, but I always forget how frightening and disheartening it is to see one until they are right before me, in arms reach.

Noise from outside reminds me to quit being such a pansy and get on with the investigating. I see blood on her arm instantly, rich crimson against the harsh ivory of her skin. The mortician had already washed off most of the gore, although the two markings that Rodney had mentioned earlier are very evident. Literally carved into her arm are two numbers; 2 and 8.

With nothing else nearly or at all being considering suspicious on the body, I take a look around the room for anything else concerning El Fantasma. This being the third proven death in the brothel, you'd think the detective assigned to these cases would have put the coincidences together by now and have the mortician compare all damage to the bodies, to see if the deaths, or murders, were not just consequential.

All right, so I admit it; I've done this far too many times for my own good.

And that's when I see a stack of papers on a table near the door. Papers with the names of Tara Miller, Paulina Sanchez, and Helen Cortez. Shuffling quickly through them in order to hurry up the pace of my investigating, I'm surprised to discover that nothing is alike with these three murders. Maisie obviously died of asphyxiation, while Paulina was shot in the chest, Helen hit over the head, while Tara, of course, disappeared all together, presumed dead.

It's then that the shouting and calling from outside the morgue draws me through that door and outside to the street. The moment my feet hit the dirt, I look straight ahead to see Jack hit the mortician over head with the gold hilt of his sword.

"Jack!" I yell over at him, "I said _distract_ him, not knock him out cold!"

The pirate captain shrugs, grinning as he reveals several gold teeth. "Care to help me drag him inside, love?"

"_Hope dangles on a string  
__Like slow spinning redemption  
__Winding in and winding out  
__The shine of it has caught my eye  
__And roped me in so mesmerizing, so hypnotizing  
__I am captivated, I am vindicated  
__I am selfish, I am wrong, I am right  
__I swear I'm right, I swear I knew it all along  
__And I am flawed, but I am cleaning up so well  
__I am seeing in me now the things you swore you saw yourself."  
_"_**Vindicated" -Dashboard Confessional**_


	29. Dead Men Tell No Lies

**Chapter Twenty-Nine**

"_**Every man is afraid of something. That's how you know he is in love with you; when he is afraid of losing you."  
**__**-Unknown**_

"He didn't _look_ this heavy," I complain, wrapping my fingers tighter around the mortician's scuffed brown boots.

"He doesn't look like he can throw much of a punch, either. Guess he's proved the both of us wrong, then; I'll probably have a bruise for a month!" Jack says, flexing his jaw.

I roll my eyes, glancing at the man's arms. He isn't incredibly scrawny; it's obvious he could take care of himself, if put to the test. "You only think he looks like he can't throw a punch because you see yourself as invincible."

Jack and I simultaneously drop the man on the floor inside the Morgue before turning to leave. I just hope he doesn't wake up to remember everything and tattles on one of us. "Who doesn't?" is the pirate's big-headed reply. "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, darling!"

"No one is invincible, Jack."

He holds up a finger, as though he is proving a point. "I, love, am an exception to that rule."

"Sometimes I wonder what goes on in that head of yours," I say with a small smile, shaking my head at his confidence.

Jack reaches over and loops his arm around my waist, pulling me flush against him right then and there on the doorstep of the morgue. "I could show you," he whispers huskily, his breath rich and warm.

I don't even notice the people from the streets staring at us in shock as he cups my cheek with his hand and kisses me, his touches slow and lethargic. It's not until I feel myself pressing closer to him that I realize what I'm doing and back away from him, my lips burning and tender from his. "Stop," I tell him, taking a breath and opening my eyes.

"Oh," Jack says, "I forgot. Yer supposed to be angry with me still. My apologies, love."

I narrow my eyes at him. He really is unbelievable! "It's like you don't even realize why I _would_ be angry with you."

He sighs. "It's not like that at all, darling."

"What's it like, then, Jack? You kiss Kamella and I just forgive and forget? I'm sorry if I don't fit into your invincible plan, but things aren't always that easy!"

I brush past him, angry and simply wanting to take a peaceful walk back to _El Fantasma_. But as I hear Jack's footsteps behind me, I know a peaceful walk is not what I'm going to get.

"Why are you always doing that?" he demands.

"Doing what?"

"Running away."

"I'm not running," I defend. "I'm _walking_."

He grabs my arm, pulling me to the side. "Same principal," he replies.

"You drive me _insane_," I snap at him. "You are so nonchalant and careless about everything. I'd rather just not deal with it now. Maybe I'll have enough patience tomorrow."

"What do ye want me to do?" the pirate asks. "Drop to my hands and knees and beg for yer forgiveness?"

I raise my eyebrows at this, remembering my thoughts from this afternoon when first seeing him, looking as dashing and confident when talking with Abegail. "I've thought about it," I admit.

He snorts. "Not gonna happen."

"The least you could do is recognize that you made a mistake," I tell him, my feet planted strong.

His dark, russet eyes are soft. "I _know_ I made a mistake, Andie. I thought we had put this behind us."

I shake my head at him, causing a strand of black hair to slip from the loose braid at the base of my neck and into my eyes. "You broke my trust, Jack. Above all, that's what I value most. It's going to take a while."

Jack's eyes still locked with my own, he reaches over to tuck the piece of hair behind my ear. "I'm not good with these situations, love. I've pissed a lot of people off in my lifetime. And I've never given a shit before. But there's this feelin' that keeps eatin' away at me gut..."

I almost laugh in pity at his naive tendencies for emotions. "That's guilt, you wretch."

A small smile lifts at those supple, warm lips. "Yer calling me names again. Perhaps it's a good sign."

"I've been calling you names since that day I left you behind in Port Royal," I explain with a roll of my eyes. "And not good ones, mind you."

He sighs, curling his long fingers around my waist and giving me the most sensual, sad eyes I've ever seen posses those dark irises. "Forgive me, darling."

I try. I gaze back at him, telling myself that the kiss was nothing and he cares for me and everything should be perfect. I tell myself that my pride is nothing, that I should back my guard down, just this once. And yet that feeling of betrayal eats away at my gut like the guilt is to his own.

"You and I have something in common, Jack. A black heart. Perhaps part of me has been a pirate all along."

Once again, his face gives away nothing. "I've never doubted it, love."

I don't say anything for a moment, just _feeling_ as his hands run up and down my arms once before falling back down to my waist, as though he cannot help himself but to touch me, to reassure himself that I'm real.

I close my eyes, thinking back on a time that I felt so pure, so happy and troubled all in the same time. There were so many emotions going through my veins when he showed up in my home for that party my father had planned in order to celebrate my engagement to Anson Beck. Jack had snuck up into my bedchamber every night and day for a week after that night, my brother aiding his entrances and escapes. I remember lying in bed with him after spending the entire night awake, making love with him until I absolutely could not any longer, begging him to stop before I went absolutely mad. And still we could not stop touching, kissing.

"Is this a dream?" I had asked him.

I'll never forget that grin on his face when he had told me no, it certainly was not. It was real. And in that moment, I knew I was going to leave with him. I still teased him, fought over the decision, but deep down, I knew all along I was going to follow him back to the _Pearl_. Perhaps part of me wanted to see if he really did want me, if he would risk everything just to get me back again. Part of me thirsted for the adventure, for the danger of running away from those people, from that place again.

I open my eyes, snapping back into reality. "Why did you follow me here, Jack?"

His palm curls around the back of my neck. "Ye know why."

I shake my head. "Tell me."

"Ye and I, darling," he says, "We're the pair no one thought would last. Yer the only woman who makes me feel drunk with one kiss, without one sip of rum. Yer the only challenge I still haven't been able to succeed."

I shake my head. "You got me into your bed. Isn't that enough?"

"No," he replies. "It's not."

"You know, I think part of me has been angry with you before I walked in on you with Kamella," I suddenly confess, the words bursting out with no control. He watches me with concentrated eyes, waiting for me to go on. "The morning we reached Port Royal, you told me it would be better if I just left, if I gave in and pursued whatever it was that Chester had planned for me. All I wanted was for you to ask me to stay. For once in my life, I was going against my instincts; I knew the moment those words would come out of your mouth I would plant my feet. Kamella and I, even Stanley when he was alive, that's what we do; we arrive somewhere, and three weeks later, we up and leave for somewhere new. And this time, I didn't _want_ to leave. That was the first time in my life I had ever felt that way."

"And ye think I _wanted_ ye to go?" Jack snaps. "I was only doin' what I thought ye wanted me to! Our lives coincide, ye said. I thought it would be better just to let ye go, to let ye live your life. I didn't want to keep ye from what ye obviously love to do."

My eyes narrow. "But now you will?"

He shakes his head. "Never, Andie. But I couldn't leave it like that. Not with ye hating me guts and everything on me ship reminding me of ye and that look on yer face when ye walked through that door to The Turner's kitchen. Ye keep haunting me, even when ye are too far away for me to comprehend."

_I know the feeling_. "I don't want to hate you," I tell him. "So, please, Jack. Just stop before you're ahead."

"You've always hated me," he puts lightly.

"No, I just wanted to," I argue. "Before I met you I was trying to turn my life around. I wasn't going to spend the night in another stranger's bed, I wasn't going to tell myself to just _breathe_ and _forget_ every night. I was tired of hanging on by a string. And then I met you."

"I don't understand," he says gently.

I inhale deeply, trying to keep the emotions boiling inside to stay at a simmer. I don't want to break down here, not in front of him. I've done that far too many times now. "You make me forget. And being with you... it keeps me hanging on by a string. I tried hating you for it. I even tried hating you for what I walked in on back in Port Royal. And you know what I've realized, Jack? "

He swallows. "What?"

"I hate you most for the possibility that you might actually love me. So, please, don't tell me you want what's best for me, and don't tell me you just want me to be happy. Just leave me be."

Jack doesn't allow me to walk away. "I can't," is his reply.

It would be so much easier to hate him, then. If he just threw down his arms and gave up on me all together. That way, I could tell myself he isn't worth it. But he won't, I know. When Jack Sparrow has his sights set on something, he won't give up; and most importantly, he doesn't fail.

I just shake my head, not tearing myself from his grasp but gently walking away, trying to ignore as he treads behind me, his footsteps heavy like a worry I am trying desperately to ease. Every once in a while I can tell he is opening his mouth to say something or reaching out to touch me, but a moment later he pulls his hand back, deeming me untouchable. I'm not running away from him, not this time. Now I just want some peace and quiet. I need to think.

And most importantly, I need rest. I haven't been sleeping well for a while now, too stressed and too many things on my mind. It all started with the dreams after we found Stanley back in the inn in Tortuga and is slowly getting worse. It's to the point where I am almost afraid to close my eyes.

Jack finally decides to speak up. "It doesn't have to be this way, you know."

I try to swallow the lump in my throat. "I know."

He reaches out with a soft but rough hand, touching my arm with such tenderness that I can't help but to close my eyes. "Andie..."

I have to lock my jaw and blink my eyes to try and keep the tears from revealing themselves. "You're not helping matters, Jack."

He steps in front of me, his fingers tracing the line of my jaw and neck. "And what do you suggest I do, then?"

I ignore this. "I really need to get back," I say as an excuse to break us out of this stupor. "There's a potential murderer waiting for me."

Jack's eyes narrow. "What?"

"A suspect I need to check out," I explain with a roll of my eyes.

"What did ye find back there, love?"

"Not much of significant use," I lie.

I keep my eyes on Norma Jean, trotting in front of me like some sort of a queen, distracting myself as Jack takes step beside me. "And the marking?" he asks.

"It was there," I conclude, remembering the sight of the two numbers cut deep into Maisie's pale arm.

"Look, pet, if ye don't want me to have anythin' to do with yer investigation, just say so."

I give him a blunt, sideward glance. "Jack, I don't want you to have anything to do with my investigation."

Said pirate gives me a disbelieved look. "What? Why not!"

"It was your idea for me to come out here and do this thing on my own in the first place, remember?" I proclaim.

Jack waves a finger in my face. "Not alone; with Chester, Kamella and Rodney."

I scoff. "Like they do any good, anyway. Chester's always disappearing, Kamella is always groping people she shouldn't be groping and constantly looking for a party, and Rodney is just here because you told him to."

Jack's brow furrows. "To help ye, to look after ye. I wasn't just gonna let ye run off all on yer onesies, darling, not with all the trouble the Fortunes are causing."

"No one even knows about the bloody Fortunes, Jack! We haven't heard anything for months!" I exclaim.

I storm off towards the _El Fantasma_, standing tall and proud not too much farther down the road. I'm so close that I can see and hear the crowd at the front doors, shouting things at the guards who surround the building, fretting about what is going on inside and demanding to know what happened and if they are safe in their own homes.

"Ye didn't see the things Stanley had in that room," Jack says, trying to grab a hold of me but I swat him away. "Dozens of articles, Andie. There were eight of ye with Athena's curse. Now there are three left; probably less by now."

"How do you know that?" I demand.

"Chester has it all mapped out, love. People do know about the Fortunes, and if yer not more careful about it, they'll be coming for ye too."

I shrug, shaking my head at him. "Let them." And with that, I dart off through the crowd and into the brothel.

88888

The chaos inside _El Fantasma_ has only gotten worse since mine and Jack's departure an hour earlier. The sun is beginning to set and the rest of the girls are doubting their safety inside the house. I don't blame them.

I mean to make it up the stairs, but I'm stopped when a sudden hand reaches out and grabs my elbow. "Holla, bonita," the man says, grinning a mouth full of blackened, disgusting teeth that make me cringe.

"If I were in the mood, I'd kick your ass for touching me without my permission," I tell him miserably. "Go fuck with someone else."

But he doesn't let go; in fact, his fingers tighten on my skin. "No," he puts lightly.

I frown. "Look, buddy, there are guards everywhere in this place. One scream from me and you are dead meat."

He begins babbling, his accent so thick and his scent reeking horribly of stale whiskey that I have not a clue as to what he is saying. Trying to loosen his fingers bruising grip about my arm, I take a step back, hoping that he will drop his hand. When he doesn't, I can't help but to roll my eyes.

"Your kind never learn, do you? When a woman tells you to do something, you should do it," I pull my right arm back before snapping it forward, my knuckles striking the sleazy man right in the nose. "Cause' sometimes we fight back."

The man finally steps back, shocked by my sudden attack. When he looks back up at me with those big, bloodshot eyes, however, I am the one who is surprised when he quickly grabs me around the throat, those thick fingers threatening to squeeze all the breath from my body.

And then, as the first gasp leaves my mouth, a gun is cocked and pressed to the man's big red face. "Let her go," a voice from beside him hisses between clenched teeth. Rodney.

After a short moment's thought, the drunkard lets me go and Rodney pulls the pistol away. A guard stands beside him, ready to drag the bastard out of the building. But before he can get a hold of the beefy man's thick arms and slap them in irons, he leans forward so his face is close to mine. "They're coming," he bites out. "Can't you see?"

I feel myself tense up, looking back into his eyes without thinking. Who is coming? I want to ask him, but I am too shocked by these words that I am stunned. I can't move, I can't speak. Before he can say anymore, however, the guard drags him off towards the door, leaving him to only stare at me over his shoulder as he leaves.

"Are you all right?" Rodney asks, sitting down next to me on the steps.

I nod, chalking his words up to his drunken state. He didn't know what he was saying, right? "I'm fine. He was just... very strong," I explain, touching my throat with shaky fingertips.

Rodney is looking over my face and neck very carefully. "Are you sure? You look very tired."

"I haven't been sleeping well. Since... well, since Stanley died. Bad dreams and such, if I fall asleep at all," I explain, covering my eyes with my hand. That was close. _Too_ close. I need rest, I need to relax; how can I fight this new evil if I can't even defend myself to a stupid bloody drunkard?

"I've noticed," he says, still looking to see if I am hurt anywhere. "Why don't you go upstairs and-"

"I'm fine, Rodney, stop looking me over like a patient. It makes me nervous."

He sighs. "Sorry."

Why am I being such a witch? "I don't mean to snap," I tell him in apology.

"I know," he says, "It's all right. But look, I'm glad I found you. I did a little research concerning the man Maisie said was stalking Tara."

"Really?" I reply, curious as to why he's acting so differently when he was just shouting at me an earlier. "What about him?"

"He doesn't exist."

Doesn't exist? "What?"

"I asked all the girls around here, even Abegail. She said Tara was one of the newer attributes to her business and hadn't had time to even gain any regular customers," Rodney explains.

My eyes narrow at this. "Hilary and Maisie are the ones who told me about the obsessive stalker."

Rodney raises an eyebrow. "Sounds suspicious. Perhaps one of them is hiding something."

"Or they both are. Were, in Maisie's case. She doesn't have a chance to hide much now; dead men tell no lies, and all."

"Did you find anything on the corpse?" he asks.

I hold up my index and middle fingers. "Two things, actually. You were right about the markings on her arm. They were numbers; 2 and 8."

"Do you think that points to murder or suicide?"

I shrug. "Depends on what the numbers mean." Then suddenly, Rodney tenses up. "What is it?" I ask him.

"There was an assigned painter here this morning. He was numbering the doors to the rooms," the first mate of the _Black Pearl _explains.

"You think the numbers lead to one of the rooms?" I ask with a raised brow. Needless to say, I'm impressed by his quick thinking.

"Well, after you pointed out upstairs that Maisie's death could have been on her own hands, I started thinking. When Hilary and I found her body in that closet, the door was open. Not completely, it was enough to make a point," he says.

Suddenly, things are becoming a lot less muddled. "Like she wanted you to find her," I conclude.

Rodney nods. "Exactly. So, Room 28 would be our next step."

"You're really getting the hang of this," I tell Rodney with a smile, but as soon as the words fall past my lips, I realize the irony of the situation. "Not literally, I hope."

He laughs. "Look, Andie, I'm really sorry about the things I said earlier."

I hate apologies. I hate the awkwardness that comes with them, the hugs and the angst. When Jack and I argue, we won't make a big deal out of it afterwards. We kiss and makeup between the sheets, no words or 'I'm sorry's' needed. I guess it didn't work that this time, however.

"Water under the bridge," is my dismissive reply.

But yet Rodney continues. "I just want you to be happy. And if running back to him makes you happy, then by all means..."

"I didn't _run_ back to him, Rodney."

He raises an eyebrow. "What happened, then?"

_I ran back to him_. "I don't know what came over me. I was yelling at him, and he was yelling at me, and then he was kissing me, and one thing lead to another..."

Rodney nods, a somewhat disappointed look crossing his handsome face. "Are you and he back together, then?"

"No!" I answer instantly.

"So you're just sleeping together?"

"Yes," I say. "I mean no. I... I don't know."

"Then why am I not chastising you for sleeping with Jack when you did when I slept with Kamella?" he asks.

I knew this was going to come back and bite me in the ass. "I don't know," is my reply. "Why aren't you?"

He shrugs. "Like I said, I just want you to be happy."

"I want you to be happy as well," I explain, "But Kamella is-"

"A fiend, I know."

"So why did you have sex with her?" I ask, "If you know how much of a backstabbing whore she really is!"

Rodney shakes his head. "You don't really want to know that, Andie."

I lean forward, resting my chin on my palm as I try and get a better, more honest, look at him. "Would I have asked otherwise?"

His dark eyes meet mind for a long moment. "She was the closest thing I could have to you," he finally says.

And for the second time today, I am completely speechless.

"I can't believe I just said that," he confesses, exhaling loudly. "It came out so wrong. That's not even what I really meant- "

I shake my head. "Rodney, you know if things were different..."

"You don't have to explain," Rodney replies. "You're in love with Jack, I know this."

I smile at him. "You have a crush on me," I taunt gently.

He rolls his eyes. "All right, stop it, you're making me feel stupid."

I laugh. "You're the first mate of the bloody _Black Pearl_, mate! You could have any girl you see!"

Rodney looks over at me, a small sad smile lifting his lips. "Except the one I really want."

I don't know how to respond to this. I exhale, opening my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out.

"Hey, look, water under the bridge, right? Let's go and solve this mystery before another girl ups and dies."

"_I wish you would come pick me up  
__Take me out, fuck me up  
__Steal my records  
__Screw all my friends behind my back  
__With a smile on your face  
__And then do it again  
__I wish you would.  
__I wish you would make up my bed  
__So I could make up my mind  
__Try it for sleeping instead  
__Maybe you'll rest sometime  
__I wish I could."  
_"_**Come Pick Me Up" -Ryan Adams**_

* * *

Longest chapter I've written in a while. 10 pages. I'm proud of myself, haha.

Someone mentioned something to me in a review about my not responding to reviews on here any longer, so I thought maybe I would clear that up. First of all, as I mentioned many chapters back, I seem to have little time on my hands, sometimes. (School is out for the summer, so I have more than I did, but I still have a job, and you know, a life, so I don't always have time to sit down for a half hour and respond to every review I get). Secondly, there is a feature on now that I can respond to every review individually if someone asks me a question or something. I have answered many, many reviews and questions this way. I hope that explains the situation. But I have to admit, I do kind of miss answering them every chapter on here. Of course, if you all want me to take that up again I would mind, but if no one really cares about it, than what's the point? Let me know, I guess.

Anyways, much love to everyone!


	30. Room 28

**Chapter Thirty**

"**_Waiting is painful. Forgetting is painful. But not knowing which to do is the worst kind of suffering."  
-Paulo Coelho_**

The door to room 28 is anything but suspicious. The paint is white, still damp, I imagine, by it's shiny surface of the numbers. If Rodney's suspicions are correct, than this mission is about to evolve, by whatever it is that Maisie was so intent on us to find. Or so I hope.

Rodney reaches out to turn the door handle, jumping back when the door snaps open. The other two rooms had been locked and I had to distract Abegail so Rodney could sneak around inside her office to snatch the keys. Needless to say, we found nothing but two empty, clueless rooms, despite Rodney's feeling that perhaps something was inside both of them.

"This has to be it," Rodney proclaims, "It's the only one that has been unlocked."

I push the door open wider, taking a non-hesitant step inside. "You're right," I say as I enter the room, sliding my hands down to my hips at the sight before me. "This has to be it. None of the other rooms held a dark, suspicious man behind their walls."

Maxwell turns to face me, a pleased smile on his lips. "Andie Bryant. I was wondering when you were going to track me down."

He takes a step forward, but is on the ground, my boot at his neck before he can blink. "Who the hell are you?"

"Maxwell Biez," he replies, his voice strained.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Biez," I say sweetly, the sarcasm dripping from my voice.

He raises his eyebrows. "Likewise," is the croaked reply.

I push my boot down slightly against his jugular to show I mean business. "Now, you want to tell me how you know who I am?"

But before Maxwell can reply, however, Rodney calls my name from across the room. "Andie, look at this," he says.

I glance over to see a wrinkled newspaper article in his hand, the headline reading, _Woman Mysteriously Killed in Riot. _My eyes move to the table behind him. There are more articles littering the oak surface, more shuddering headlines that catch my eye. _Man Found Dead Inside Tavern Closet_, _Woman Beaten to Death on Street, Suicide Discovered in Tortuga Inn_.

I've seen this before. Stanley's room in Tortuga, when we found him inside that closet, dead and pale and bruised. He had papers and articles and books everywhere. And then it dawns on me. "Maisie was cursed."

"Why do all of you fortunate folk see your talents as a curse?" Maxwell grumbles from beneath my boot. "What you have is the farthest from a curse. It's pure _luck_."

I glare down at him. "I want you to tell me exactly what you're doing here, how you knew Maisie, and most importantly, how you know me."

He smiles. The kind of smile Jack would have before convincing me to lock the door and join him in bed for a 'little while longer'. That mischievous grin would seduce me every single time. "And if I don't cooperate?" he asks.

"Then I'm going to bust your head like a piece of fruit," I reply, positioning my foot at the place where his chin and neck are joined, just at the curve.

Apparently, the jolt of pain that runs up his spine is convincing enough for him. "I was sent by Benjamin," he mumbles. I look at him, suddenly everything washing over me.

How could I be so stupid? Maisie wasn't talking about killing Rodney, she was talking about distracting him while Maxwell talked to me. About the curse, about the fold. They weren't the enemy; they've been on my same team this entire time.

I step back from him, shocked and eyeing his form carefully as he stands and wipes off his clothing. "Who's Benjamin?" Rodney asks, coming to stand beside me.

"Benjamin is kind of the man behind it all," I try and explain, never ripping my eyes away from the tall, dark and handsome man before me. "He's everyone's boss. He organizes everything, assigns everything. He knows absolutely everyone there is to know, and has all the connections we need to do what we do."

"Basically, he's _the man_," Maxwell says.

I narrow my eyes at him. "What are you even here for?"

"To train you, of course," he says as though it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"But Chester-"

"-Has been reassigned."

This is news to me. "What?"

Maxwell shrugs. "I suppose Benjamin smelled trouble in paradise. Am I right?"

I scoff. "It was never paradise to begin with."

He raises an eyebrow, and for the first time I notice a small scar just beneath the corner of his right eye. "I've heard quite a few interesting things about you, Ms. Bryant. Quick as a fox, dangerously beautiful, manipulative and sultry. You're the best at the job, they say. You know what needs to be done and you do it. When you're not turning your back on the fold, that is. And what is this about you running around with Jack Sparrow for the past two years?"

"_Captain_ Sparrow. And it hasn't been quite that long," is my confident reply, hands on my hips and eyes locked with his. Despite the lurch in my stomach at the accusation that I am repeatedly stabbing the others we both work with and for in the back, I act most calm and collected.

He chuckles. "So, what, are the two of you going to tie the knot or something?"

"I'm not really the marrying type," I explain dryly.

"No, and he's not either, I imagine," Maxwell says, stroking his whiskered jaw. "A pirate? Could you imagine all of the women he's shagged at every port? Dozens of 'em, I bet! At one time!"

I scoff, my locked jaw beginning to ache. "Do you have anything useless to tell me or are you going to just gab on about nothing all night?"

Maxwell smiles. "A bit touchy, don't you think?"

"Only when people waste my time."

He whistles. "An attitude, too. You're every last thing they said you would be."

"Who's _they_?" Rodney inquires.

Maxwell wags a finger in his face. "Now, that I won't tell you. The details of my job and who I work for are private. Which means I don't tell people like _you_."

I roll my eyes. "Would you get on with it, please?"

He makes a slow show of meeting my eyes before allowing them to travel lower, over every supple curve of my body before returning my gaze once again with a satisfied grin. "Very well. Maisie and I were sent here to investigate a disappearance."

"Tara," I condemn.

"Si," he replies. "One night she was just gone. Just like that."

Rodney's eyebrows raise in surprise. "So, Tara was cursed too?"

Maxwell shakes his head. "No, she doesn't have the curse. But she's very important, which explains why they sent us to find her. If someone gets a hold of the information she has... well, let's just say that we're all better off dead."

I'm quiet, but that doesn't mean I'm not curious. Who is Tara and what does she have that's so important?

Rodney, still holding one of the faded articles in his hands, questions him further. "What ever happened to her?"

Maxwell shrugs. "Hell if I know. That was Maisie's job, and now it's Andie's."

"Why don't you just presume her to be dead?" I question. "No one has seen her in weeks."

He walks over to a table by the window, collecting a couple loose shillings sitting innocently on it's surface. "Because she's _not_ dead. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here."

"How do you know she isn't dead?" Rodney asks.

Maxwell glances at me, clearly annoyed by his questions. "Who is this guy?"

"A friend," I reply.

He shrugs. "The gypsies; they said she's still in the building. Maisie and I figured there's another floor below the first, but we couldn't find a doorway anywhere."

I glance over at Rodney, who looks over at me in return. Finally, we have the bit that will end this entire thing. Except, of course, the two other murders we haven't yet solved.

"Do you know anything about the other two girls?" I ask Maxwell.

"A couple of whores got killed," he says, giving me a sideward glance. "Who cares? They had it coming."

I roll my eyes. "All right, so he's no help," I say to Rodney.

"Hey, I pointed you towards Tara, didn't I?"

All right, so I'll give him that; but will I admit it? Of course not. "Goodnight, Mr. Biez," I tell him.

"Goodnight? Are you bidding me adieu? I'm the one you take orders from now, remember? I'm going with you."

I sigh. "First of all, I take orders from no one. Secondly, I haven't eaten in nearly a day. I haven't had a cigarette in three; therefore, I'm going to have a little _me_-time."

Maxwell grins. "Can I watch?"

Rodney groans in annoyance. "Andie, can I please hit him?"

"Under normal circumstances, I would say yes," I reply. "But I want him on my good side. We might need him later."

88888

Abegail has enforced a strict rule for the next two nights; not one of us are to leave the building, and no one is to enter. The murders are finally shaking her up, I guess. And it's about time, too; the first two murders and Tara's disappearance were shaken off as though it was nothing at all.

"You're breaking the rules right now," a voice says from behind me. I don't even bother to turn and regard her; it's just Hilary and I'm not in the mood for visitors. "Sitting on the roof is considered leaving the house."

I take another drag from the cigarette perched between my index and middle fingers, my eyes on the night sky before me, seemingly so close that I could just reach out and touch the sky. "Ask me if I give a rat's ass," I reply.

She climbs out though the window and takes a seat beside me. "Do you give a rat's ass?"

I exhale, the smoke surrounding me. "No."

She raises a perfect blonde eyebrow. "Foul mood?"

"How can you tell?" I ask sarcastically.

Hilary smiles, her full pink lips twitching up on one side. "Because you look like you want to strangle someone right now." She waits, but I don't say anything. "Does this have anything to do with the man who approached you earlier tonight?"

_Jack_. I drop the end of my cigarette onto the roof and stomp it out with my boot. "Why do you ask?"

"Because there's this look in your eyes," she says. "And it wasn't there this morning until you saw him."

"I'm just tired," I tell her.

She shrugs. "Whatever."

"What are you even doing out here?" I snap.

"Keeping you company?"

"If I wanted your company," I tell her slowly, "I would have stayed inside with you."

Hilary rolls her blue eyes and begins climbing back through the window. "On the other hand, perhaps you should get some sleep. If that's even your problem." And with that, she slams the window closed.

"What, are we breaking up?" I say, despite her absence.

I know how I'm acting, rude and livid, but my awful mood cannot be doused by someone else's presence. I just want to be alone while I think about Stanley, and Maisie, and why in the world they would choose to end their fate so soon, and most importantly, what I said to Jack about no one knowing about The Fortunes. Perhaps I was wrong.

_Apparently your mate Stanley knew his fate was not to be pretty and ended it before it was too late,_ Jack had said after we had found my old friend, hanging so lifelessly by a rope. Apparently Maisie's thoughts were one in the same, but what were they so afraid of? The Fortunes, someone after The Fortunes? And why couldn't they have warned me beforehand?

Stanley and Maisie may have let their fears overcome them and end their lives, but I'm not the kind of person who will give up so easily. I'll fight for my life, and I'll have revenge for whatever it was that caused them to do what they did. Especially for Stanley.

Suddenly, I hear movements in the plants and landscaping below the roof and at the base of the house, followed by bouts of hissing and cursing. "Ouch! Bloody hell!"

_What was that?_ I look around, trying to discover where the loud clanking and near shouting is coming from, when it abruptly stops all together. And then, from the left side of the roof, I hear something snap and a dark, clumsy figure scrambles onto the ledge, nearly falling on top of me.

"Jack?" I exclaim.

He leans up on his arms, half sprawled across me, so I can see his face. "Evenin', love."

"What are you doing here?"

"I've come to talk to ye," he says, straightening himself to a sitting position beside me.

"Sparrow, please, I am not-"

"Wantin' to hear what I have to say," he nods, "I know. So, I'm just gonna talk and if ye feel like listenin' or interjectin', then by all means. Savvy?"

I sigh. I'm much too tired to fight with him. "Sure."

"Good," Jack replies with a smile. "Now, I've been doing some thinkin'. Ye remember, darling, the first time we shagged? Back at your mate's tavern in Helena Port?"

I roll my eyes at his raw choice of words."Yes, I remember," I say flatly.

"Ye told me I was only attracted to ye because of the curse. Because of a certain aura that surrounds ye."

"Is there a reason you're telling me this?" I ask.

His gold teeth shine in the darkness as he speaks, ignoring my comment. "What if that is why I responded to Kamella? When she approached me I felt dazed, love. I knew what I was doin', but at the same time, I didn't."

I am looking at him like he has finally gone mad. "How many excuses are you going to make, Jack?"

"It's not an excuse," he defends, holding up a long, slender finger. "It's an accusation. Believe me, Andie, whatever happened that day, I was not thinkin' properly."

I open my mouth to respond, but suddenly I am silenced by a violent pain across my stomach, as though I had just been slashed deeply with a knife.

"Andie?" Jack calls.

I press my hand to my abdomen, feeling no blood soak my hand, nothing but the sensation of something threatening to rip my flesh from my body.

"Shit," I gasp. "Not again."

"What is it?" he demands.

"I-" a whimper leaves my pedal lips as I feel more pain in my chest. "I need to get inside."

Jack presses his hand gently to my abdomen. "Andie, tell me what's goin' on."

But I can't explain now, not when the wounds I received a year ago in a battle with Ivory Nissa are coming back to give me hell. "Where's Chester?" I manage to ask.

Jack looks undoubtably nervous. "As if I bloody know! He left Port Royal with ye, remember?"

I close my eyes, grabbing at my bodice and trying to ignore the hot, blistering pain. "Get Maxwell."

His eyes grow huge. "Who's Maxwell?"

My body gives in and I collapse against him, biting against the side of my cheek to keep from crying out. Jack reaches back with his free arm and starts banging viciously on the window behind us, provoking Hilary to open it.

I hear the tapping of footsteps and then; "What the hell is-" she exclaims, gasping when she sees me, doubling over in agony in Jack's arms.

He gathers me closer to him, quickly carrying me back inside the room without much of a problem. Gently, he lies me down on the closest bed, instantly moving to unlace my bodice I've been grabbing at so savagely.

"What happened?" Hilary asks, unable to keep her eyes from me.

This seems to be the first time Jack even notices her. "Ye," he says. "I saw ye with Rodney. Go get him. Perhaps he knows what the hell is going on."

"But I don't know-"

"Go!" Jack roars.

I open my hazel eyes just in time to see her sprinting out the door.

"Andie," he says, touching my perspiring forehead and cupping my face to make me look at him. "Talk to me. What's goin' on?"

"I- "

"She's scarring," a deep, accented voice says from the door.

"That," I say matter-of-factly to Jack, all though it hurts like hellfire to speak, "Is Maxwell."

Jack's brows raises as he looks from me to him. "Scarring?"

"Once a year she scars," Maxwell explains, walking over to stand beside the bed. He watches me for a moment, my head lolling back and forth on the mattress and clawing at my dress as though it would help stop the anguish. "She heals fast because she moves fast. She has to go from place to place with a reason to get there and get out, therefore, doesn't have time for the normal dealing process."

Hilary bolts through the door, Rodney at her side. "Andie," Rodney murmurs, his face only of worry as he lays his eyes on me.

"You two," Maxwell barks, grabbing a scrap of parchment from Hilary's bedside table and begins scribbling something down on it with a quill sitting conveniently beside it. "I need you to go into town and get these things for me."

"Is she all right?" Rodney wonders.

Maxwell rolls his eyes, handing Hilary the parchment. "She'll be fine. Just be back with these things in a hurry."

Jack doesn't even seem to notice anyone else is in the room. "I'm all right," I try and assure him, despite the pain threatening to tear me apart.

"Ye don't look all right. Yer very pale," he says curiously, touching my brow. "And feverish," he adds quickly, snatching his hand away as though my skin had burned him. When we both look down at his palm, however, a slight red mark is forming there. "You burned me!" he exclaims.

"Oh, don't touch her skin," Maxwell warns him. "It should be getting abnormality hotter by the second."

Jack rolls his eyes. "Could have told me that earlier."

Rodney says something to me, but their voices are going in and out at this point. I can't understand a word they are saying. All I see are he and Hilary climbing past the heavy curtains and through that same window to fetch whatever it is that's on the list Maxwell gave them.

My new boss is watching me with amazed eyes. He leans over the side of the bed, placing his hand just above my stomach. He smiles, shaking his head. "Astonishing. You can feel the energy radiating off her skin."

I jump at him. "Touch me and I'll shoot you myself!"

If there's one thing I don't like about this process, besides the obvious pain, of course, is the fact that people are so fascinated by it. I don't feel so fascinating. I feel like a cold-blooded freak.

Jack tries his best to keep me down. "Watch it. She's not just saying that for fun."

"She'll be all right," Maxwell tells Jack, "At least there's no blood."

Jack isholding onto my arms as I writhe and tear into my clothing with my fingernails. He grabs my hands, pushing them down into the bed at my sides so I don't claw myself enough to bring said crimson to the surface. Hissing as he burns himself on my hot flesh once more, he re-positions his hands so they are above my clothing.I fight against the very much humantemptation to sob, to cry in self-sorrow.

Maxwell groans. "I need a bottle of rum. Just looking at you makes my limbs ache."

Jack turns, glancing quickly at my new boss and trainer as he strides towards the doorway. "Bring a couple extra bottles while your at it, mate."

I can hear my heartbeat in my ears, thumping away as it begins to race, faster and faster until I can't take it anymore. I begin struggling at the sound, begging for it to stop. It gets to the point where Jack has to climb atop me on the bed, holding me down and shielding himself from my bare skin.

"It's all right, love," he says into my ear. "Just try and relax."

"I can't," I whimper. "It's too much."

Jackreplies, but I can't hear him. My pulse is too loud, too distracting. And then suddenly, a burning sensation surrounds me and my body begins to go slack, numb. And before I can stop it or fight against, the pain is too much and I am a lax, dormant figure atop the mattress.

"_Sometimes a man gets carried away when he feels like he should be having his fun  
And much too blind to see the damage he's done  
Sometimes a man must awake to find that really, he has no-one  
So I'll wait for you... and I'll burn  
Will I ever see your sweet return?  
Oh, will I ever learn  
Oh lover, you should've come over  
Say it's not too late."  
_"**Lover, You Should Have Come Over" -Jeff Buckley**

* * *

So, Dead Man's Chest was pretty much amazing and fascinating and all that jazz. I went to the midnight showing and it was absolute chaos. I loved rubbing it into my mom's face, because she told me that no one would be there, that my best friend and I were the only ones making the premiere a huge deal. And you know what I heard on the radio yesterday? _Dead Man's Chest_ is the most successful movie premiere of all time. _All time_. She admitted she was wrong, then. I was happy.

Anyways, long chapter once again. I know a few of you have asked me about Andie's scaring, and why some of the scars showed up and some of them didn't. And finally I have taken the time to sit down and write out a plot that had to do with that. I'm not going to lie, I woke up one day last week, I think it was, and this plot line just came to me. I love when that happens.

Reviews are love.


	31. What's Not Everlasting

**Chapter Thirty-One**

"_**It is to the credit of human nature, that, except where its selfishness is brought into play, it loves more readily than it hates. Hatred, by a gradual and quiet process, will even be transformed to love, unless the change be impeded by a continually new irritation of the original feeling of hostility."  
**__**-Nathaniel Hawthorne**_

"Andie. Can you hear me?"

I wince. Something is touching me, is causing me pain. I try and get away, but it seems I am stuck where I am, between reality and a dream where the fog surrounds me, threatening to steal the breath from my chest. It's trying to choke me.

"Hold her still. She has to drink this; it'll help with the pain."

_No_, I think, _stay away_. It's too much. There's too much energy, too much agony when I open my eyes. The fog seeps in between each strand of my hair, into every pore of my skin. A warmth surrounds me once more and I feel back into a deep sleep, dreaming of that same white room and white dress that has haunted me for months.

I open my hazel eyes, my lashes fluttering open and a gasp leaving my lips. The moment I see that same, familiar pair of brown boots thumping against that closest door I am forced to look up at his face, so pale and bruised and frightening.

"Jack," I breathe. "Not you too." He doesn't respond. He's long gone, the noose too tight around his neck and his feet too far off the ground.

I feel the tears run down my cheeks and slide down my neck, falling between my breasts. They seep into my skin like the fog all around, but not making the pain or the heartbreak anymore bearable.

I hear footsteps behind me, careful and deliberate. "Stanley?" I ask, my muscles tense and my lips trembling.

He touches my arm, his fingertips icy and claw-like. "Stop running."

My eyes narrow at his hand, black and blue, on the creamy white of my flesh. "I'm standing still."

"Are you?" he asks. Confused, I turn to face him, only to be horrified by the distortion of his face, no longer smooth and chiseled, but living flesh gone and his bones before me, maggots weaving in and out between each cavern in his skull.

Frightened, human instinct takes over and I make a run for it. I bolt through the open door and out into a long, empty hall that seems to be a lot longer than it should be. As I run the walls seem to sway, to move in and out until I am too distorted to know where I am going. _Thump_. I turn, seeing Stanley's haunted figure just behind me. I dart towards the closest door, swinging it open just enough for me to squeeze inside and slam it shut behind me.

I fall to my knees, holding the door shut with white knuckles by its handle. It's dark and cluttered, I realize as I gasp and pant for breath;. I'm in a closet. I begin to panic. What do I do, where should I go? I can't open the door in fear and risk of Stanley finding me, of being killed and giving up, just as the others did. _No_, I tell myself. _I can't. I don't want to die._

Suddenly, I am grabbed about the throat from behind, two large, freezing hands threatening to squeeze the life from me. My hand leaves the door, my fingers fluttering and clawing at my throat, silently begging them to let me go. And then I feel the noose. It's draped over me like an extravagant piece of clothing before being looped over my head. I kick and fight, trying to scream for help but I am silenced.

And then, the door swings open.

"Andie!"

I dart up straight in the bed, my eyes wide and my longues begging for oxygen. I look around to see six pairs of wide eyes gazing at me worriedly, swaying slightly by my disoriented vision. I feel so weak and so pained, my limbs aching and my skin still hot and energized.

I cover my face with my hands, finding no tears there but still aware they are viciously burning my pupils. "Are you all right?" someone asks me.

I can't answer them. I can't speak, my throat is so dry, my eyes stinging as though I had opened them under salt water. Then suddenly someone is quickly and cautiously touching my forehead, afraid to be burnt, and murmuring something about a fever too high to be considered humanly possible. I look up to see Jaden Mertz, the doctor aboard the _Pearl_, looking me over as though I was an injured patient.

Another arm extends a glass filled with a brown liquid towards me. "Drink this," Maxwell says.

"No," I reply, shaking my head. "I know what that shit is. Has fish feet or something in it. Chester made me drink it once."

Jack chuckles as he takes a seat beside me on the bed. "Fish don't have feet, darling."

Maxwell rolls his eyes. "Just drink it."

I tiredly run a hand down my face, cringing at my arms movement. "What don't you understand about no? The N, or the O?"

"It'll help with the pain," he tries to convince me.

"And make my fingertips green," I argue. "I don't like the aftereffects. It's unnatural."

Jack raises an eyebrow. "Makes yer fingertips green? Surely yer makin' that up "

"No, she's telling the truth. There are some very strange aftereffects. But it will _lessen the pain_, among other things," Maxwell says forcefully.

I roll onto my side, covering my eyes with my palm once more. "_Fuck you_," I reply just as harshly.

"Fine," he says. "Lie there in pain. I don't care."

"Good," I tell him, "I'll be happy if you get the hell out of here and let me go back to sleep! Your stupid accent is getting on my last nerve."

He scoffs. "And you think your British accent is any better? You sound all proper and proud of the queen and all that bullshit. Makes me want to knock you out so I don't have to hear it anymore."

Someone, a voice not as familiar, groans from across the room. "Would the two of you quit it? I'm tired of all of this arguing."

I open my eyes, peering from between my fingers at the woman who comes to stand at the foot of my bed. "Elizabeth? What are you doing here?"

She raises an eyebrow. "Jack didn't tell you?" We both turn at the man beside me, who leans back with wide eyes as if to say, 'I didn't do it!'

"Tell me what?" I ask him, my voice tired and somewhat hoarse.

He looks at me for a long moment, his eyes and hands animated in the air as he thinks of the best way to put whatever it is that he is about it say. Will, however, who suddenly appears standing next to his wife, beats him to the chase. "After you left, our home was-"

"Not as homely," Jack interrupts him, giving him a warning glance and giving me a dazzling grin. "Elizabeth and the whelp, here, decided to join me crew."

My eyes go back and forth between them. "You're lying," I finally decide.

Jack sighs. "Look, love, it's not a big deal, it just takes a bit of explainin'. Once you get a bit more rest and are feelin' better, I'll tell ye everythin' ye need to know. Savvy?"

"No," I say, shaking my head. "Not savvy. I want to know what's going on now."

Maxwell rolls his eyes. "I had to get thrown with a demanding one, didn't I?"

"I thought you left?" I snap at him.

"Nope," he says with a satisfied grin, "I'm still here."

I groan, lying back against the pillows, closing my eyes and covering my ears with my palms. "There's too much noise in my head."

Jack looks to Maxwell to explain. "Side affect. One that would go away if she would just _drink the remedy_. There's four stages to the scarringprocess; it will lessen the pain of the others and aid them in passing by quicker."

I glare at him. "It makes it worse."

"Only for a minute," he bickers with me. He waits for me to take the glass once more, but finally gives up, shoving it into Jack's hands. "You're sleeping with her, why don't you convince her to drink it?"

The pirate looks at the brown contents in the glass with an unsatisfactory glance. "How important is it that she downs this?"

Maxwell leans in close. "Crucial."

"I didn't drink it the past four times I've scarred, Maxwell," I tell him. "And I'm still here, aren't I?" I say, my voice sounding more and more weak by each sentence falling past my lips.

"Then Chester tricked you or injected it," Maxwell tells me. "Believe me, Andie, you wouldn't be here if that slop wasn't in your system."

I watch him for a long moment. "You're bluffing."

"Am I?" he replies, his face nothing but stone serious. "All right, then. Don't drink it, if that's what you chose. I'm going downstairs and getting lucky." With that statement, he salutes the room and closes the door shut behind him.

Elizabeth peers over Jack's shoulder and down into the glass. "Perhaps you should do as he says, Andie," she suggests.

I shake my head, looking at the man sitting beside me. "Not until I have an explanation. Something is going on, and you've been keeping it from me."

Jack winces. "Don't put it like that, love. I haven't had a chance for a rational conversation with ye, that's all."

Suddenly, Rodney, who has been sitting very quietly in the corner, stands, taking Norma Jean with him. "I'll be out in the hall."

Elizabeth tugs on Will's arm. "As will we."

Jaden shrugs, following them out the door. "What the hell, why not?"

Jack moves towards me, taking advantage that we are finally alone. He moves a piece of hair from my eyes, tucking it behind my ear and moving to run his lips over my eyelashes, careful not to burn himself. "Please explain," I whisper, trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach.

He sighs, leaning back to get a good look at me. "Will and 'Lizabeth's home was raided the mornin' after ye left."

I raise an eyebrow. "Raided?"

"They were lookin' for somethin'."

I swallow, already knowing the answer to the question I am about to ask him. "What were they looking for?"

"Ye, Andie."

My breath hitches in my chest. "Did you catch them?"

He shakes his head. "No."

"So, they'll still be looking?"

Jack nods. "Aye."

I exhale, rolling onto my side, the back of my hand flat against my cheek on the pillow. "Any idea who they were?"

Jack is hesitant before speaking, his eyes watching me closely, but he spills anyway. "Kamella said it was the _Ahoros_."

"Kamella," I say, nodding slightly. "Let me guess. She's joined your crew as well?"

Jack shrugs. "She's a nice edition to the brig, if that's yer meanin'," he explains with a grin.

"I see," I say carefully.

"Darling, don't be angry with me."

My eyes narrow dangerously. "You made me think she had gotten lost."

He shakes his head. "I didn't say a word about her whereabouts."

"Why not?" I ask knowingly.

He waves his hand toward me. "Because I knew ye would react like this."

I roll onto my other side so my back is facing him. I don't feel like looking at him right now, in fear I will do something I will later regret. "Just go away, Jack. Go back to the _Pearl_ and make sail. I don't care where you go."

Jack reaches out, touching the bare skin of my arm before quickly retracting his hand on account of the burning temperature. I am surprised, however, as his palm returns, his fingers gently coaxing my skin. "Yer fever must be goin' down," he says gently, "Yer not burnin' me anymore."

"What a pity," I mumble.

He buries his face in my neck. "I haven't touched her, I swear it, Andie."

"Then why haven't you gotten rid of her?" I ask selfishly. I know I'm being immature, but at this moment, I don't care. I'm so tired of every event in my life coming back to bite me in the ass. I never get what I want, never. Why can't I just be happy for once?

"I did, but bloody William dragged her back, nearly kicking and screaming. Said it wasn't right for me to leave her out on the streets for death to grab her by the throat."

I raise an eyebrow, not realizing that I haven't thrown him off me yet. I feel coaxed with his warm breath on my cheek, with his hands on my skin. I feel safe. "He knows about the Fortunes, then?"

"Aye."

"Thought I told you to keep that close to your vest?" I ask him sharply.

He runs his fingers through my hair. "Ye can trust Will and 'Lizabeth, darling."

I sigh, giving in and turning so I can bury my face in his chest. "I feel so pathetic," I murmur, the tears stinging and quickly rising to the surface.

"Why?" he asks innocently, a bit nervous as he wraps his arms around me. Jack will never be completely confident when around a crying woman, I don't think.

"Everything is out of my hands, Jack. I can't control anything in my life anymore," I admit.

I think I can actually feel him smile as he presses a kiss to my hair. "Life is unpredictable, darling. Ye can't control everythin'."

"I used to," I sniff, "I had control of everything. I liked it that way."

"But it didn't last," he murmurs, and I feel him moving beside me, kicking off his boots and situating himself into a laying position beside me, taking me completely into his arms.

I feel hopeless, weak and hurting, crying and depending on Jack so much as this moment. It's like all of my emotions from the past few months have finally surfaced and are exploding, my fear and doubts and passion for Jack, my betrayal for my job, for something I once loved, and now, my realization of the Fortunes, of the people who are and will be affected by them. The _Ahoros_, whoever they are, are apparently coming for me, and what if I loose? What if for once, I lose the fight?

"I wish everything could go back to the way it used to be," I whisper, pulling back slightly as I touch his shirt with shaking fingertips, damp from my tears.

"How did it used to be?" Jack asks me, his calloused fingers, rough and gentle on my skin, running up and down my back.

I lay my head back down on the pillow, watching intently as I drag my fingers down his neck, his throat and down to the open collar of his shirt. "Happy," I say. "When we left England and ran from the troops, from Anson... Gods, I was so happy. Remember the morning I woke you, after we spent the entire night together, and you told me you had never seen me smile the way I was? I can't remember being so happy."

He swallows. "What happened?"

I close my eyes. "It didn't last. It _never_ lasts."

For a moment, Jack's hands leave me all together. And then, I hear him sigh. "Here," he says.

My eyes snap open. He's holding the glass with Maxwell's remedy over my head. I groan. "Please don't make me drink that, Jack. I'll do anything."

I see his eyebrows raise, but only for a quick second before he shakes his beaded head at me. "Can't get out of it this time, Andie. If it's gonna help ye in this mess, than I am forced to sit here and watch as ye down every last drop."

I look at him. The muscle in his jaw is tight, the way I can always tell when he is angry or upset about something. He hides it so well; it's the only way I can tell when he is feeling any actual emotions.

"No," I say, shaking my head at him wearily. "I'll take a gulp, but that's it. No more."

Jack rolls his eyes. "Ye really are a pain in the ass, ye know that?"

I smile, taking the cup into my own hands. "Yes, I'm aware of that."

But as I raise the glass to my lips, I feel the burn of his eyes on me. He's watching me too intently. It's making me nervous. "Quit watching me," I tell him as I look up from the remedy.

He holds his palms up. "All right, I'll close me eyes."

I watch, and as his lashes flutter closed against the tops of his cheeks, I scrunch my nose up, think happy thoughts, and tilt my head back slightly as I allow the liquid to rush down my throat. Wincing as I pull the glass away, I set it on the table beside the bed with a weak hand.

"That's the most disgusting substance I've ever tasted in my life," I condemn, a shiver running unwelcomely down my spine. It leaves a metallic taste in my mouth, something like blood, but bitter like whiskey.

Jack's eyes flutter open as he reaches over past the side of the bed and reveals a bottle of rum. "Was hiding it from 'Lizabeth," he explains with a grin. "Here, love. Rum will do ye better than any remedy that Spaniard can think of."

88888

Half a bottle and fifteen minutes later, I fell fast asleep, the pain numbed by the warmth of alcohol in my stomach and Jack's voice in my ear. Of course, now, as I am dreaming pleasant dreams, I am roused from my much needed sleep once again.

Hilary is standing above me as my eyes flutter open, her hands suspiciously behind her back. "Hi, Andie. Sleep well?" she asks, a little too cheerfully.

"I was until you woke me up," I reply sleepily, my annoyance clearly noted. "What are you doing? Where's Jack?"

She shrugs. "I told him I had to change clothing and he needed to leave."

I raise an eyebrow. "So what are you really doing?"

Hilary sighs, rolling her eyes and pulling her hand forward, simultaneously revealing a pistol. She shoves it against my throat with a quick flick of her wrist. "I wanted to do this the quick, painless and quiet way, but I guess that's not going to happen, is it?"

I swallow, my eyes dropping to see the barrel grinning back at me like a demon. "When that gun goes off, you won't get out of here alive and well," I tell her. "Jack will make sure of that."

"Is that so?" she croons. "What makes you think he'll even care if I kill you now? You're a pain in his arse, Andie. You're a pain in everyone's arse. And now the _Ahoros_ are after you, and he'll be right at death's doorstep as well. What makes you think he will risk his life to protect yours?"

"I don't know," I say quietly, "But there's always the fact that he's done it multiple times before."

She shrugs. "Perhaps he's given up on you. You've seemed to already have give up on him."

I narrow my eyes at her. "Are you going to kill me or just discuss my pirate problems all day?"

Hilary cocks the gun, grinning down at me. "If you insist."

But before she can fire, my foot suddenly connects with her abdomen, sending her flying to the ground despite my loss of strength. The pistol goes off, shattering the glass of the window just behind my head and alerting anyone within a one mile radius, I'm sure.

Just as Hilary begins cursing and climbing back to her feet, the door slams open, revealing the very confused pair of Rodney and Jack. "Glad you could join us," I quip tiredly from my new place on the floor, where I had fallen from my attempt to throw Hilary off her murderous trip. That one painful kick took all of the strength from me. "Hilary was just about to explain how she knows about the _Ahoros_ and why she was trying to put a bullet through my head."

Rodney withdraws his sword, pointing it dangerously at the prostitutes smooth, white neck. "To your feet," he tells her.

She does as he says, rolling her eyes and holding up her palms in an innocent fashion. Jack walks over to me, wrapping one arm about my waist and helping me up off the ground. I lean against him, afraid I am unable to physically stand on my own two feet.

"Someone want to explain what's goin' on?" he asks.

But before we can question Hilary's actions or expectations at all, the dull thumping and knocking sounds of footsteps interrupt us. "Is anyone hurt in here?" men are shouting from down the hallway, opening and tossing doors around as they search for the source of the gunshot.

Hilary laughs, her blue eyes regarding me. "Looks like I won't be telling you anything if they can help it."

"_When your mind is a mess, so is mine  
__I can't sleep cause it hurts when I think  
__My thoughts aren't at peace, with the plans that we make  
__Chances we take, they're not yours, they're not mine  
__There's waves that can break  
__All the words that we say, all the words that we mean  
__Words can fall short, can't see the unseen  
__Cause the world is awake  
__For somebody's sake now,  
__Please close your eyes woman, please get some sleep."  
_"**No Other Way" -Jack Johnson**

* * *

More on Andie's scarring in the next chapter, I promise.

I'm in a good mood tonight, and have some time on my hands. I think I'll respond to your reviews, which I appreciated as always. 408 reviews so far; that's amazing. You all are really part of my muse.

By the way, I've noticed a lot of peopleare requesting to add me on MySpace. That's great and I would love to accept you all, but it would be great if and when you do, you could send me a message telling me that you are a reader or reviewer for Lady Fair. My page is now private to people who are not friended by me and I'm not being very lenient on who I accept nowadays because of creepy people bothering me, haha. So, just send me a message telling me you know me from this website and I will be sure to add you, no problem.

**Simply Norma:** DMC beat _everyone_ in the box office! I was stunned as well. And the movie has been getting mixed reviews, as well, as far as I have heard. I don't read reviews by critics because I think they are all morons. Haha.

**the. dead. addict:** They were drinking and smoking pot right there in the movie theater? Damn, that's insane. Where do you live?

**HarleyQueen:** Really, you live in Barcelona? Wow. I have to admit, I really don't know much about Spain, but I figured I would take the story farther than just the Caribbean. Did you add me on MySpace, by chance? I got a request and checked out said person's page and saw they lived in Barcelona. I accepted because I thought it was you.

**Johnnyluver4ever:** I'm sure a lot of people are wishing Jack would show his love as well, but it's not really in his character to do so. The trick about his character and the way I see and write him, he shows his emotions in the way he acts or the actions he makes. I try to make it obvious that he cares for her with still keeping him in character. It's one of the aspects that enamors me with him.

**Cayenne Pepper Powder:** You're right, I haven't heard from you in a very long time! How are you? I thought I had lost you somewhere!

Thanks and much love to everyone else who reviewed: **Sandragoon, everyone.loves.jay, Victoria, Kishi.Sonyana.Nightfall, Gothicsoul15, Iorhael-nin, lady of the seas, Hiko-chan, Azrael, Angelwingz21.**


	32. The Second Stage

**Chapter Thirty-Two**

"_**The most authentic thing about us is our capacity to create, to overcome, to endure, to transform, to love and to be greater than our suffering."  
**__**-Ben Okri**_

Twenty minutes after the guards dragged Hilary from the room, who openly admitted to firing the gun and attacking me, I am being forced to pack my things and leave _El Fantasma_ because of my lack of following Abegail's rules.

"Six people you brought in here, Andie! After I made it perfectly clear that _El Fantasma _was not doing business on account of this mess," she hisses, cursing at me in her native tongue, her thick hands animated and her eyes shining dark even in the yellow sunlight, pooling in graciously from the open window.

Maxwell raises his hand, clearly ready to argue with such an accusation. "I work here, I don't count."

Rodney shrugs. "I was here before the rule was set. I don't count either."

I narrow my hazel eyes at my new boss, confusion written over my fair features. "You don't work here."

"Eh, I guarded a door once or twice," he admits, a nonchalant tone to his deep, accented voice.

Abegail's eyes nearly pop out of her head. "Just get out!" she wails, "Vámonos!"

I watch her with a raised brow as she scurries from the room, like a penguin or a plump bird standing on short legs, not fit for its own size, and slamming the door shut angrily behind her. "And I thought she would fire me for so much more," I admit.

"You're actually working here?" Elizabeth questions. "In a brothel!"

Jaden chuckles, grinning with amusement at me. "Jack told them the _El Fantasma_ was an inn you were staying."

"For obvious reasons," I reply with a weak smile before turning my head to explain the minor details to William's wife. "It's just an act, Elizabeth. I'm not _really_ a prostitute."

"Not until Jack's around, anyway," Maxwell quips.

I glare at him from my place at the edge of the bed. "Excuse me?" I say.

Rodney rolls his eyes. "Back to the situation at hand, mates. Tara is still missing and Andie is still too weak to get out of bed due to this scarring ordeal."

"I'm not weak," I reply instantly, clearly offended by his choice of words.

"He's got a point there," Jack says, ignoring my denial. "Yer scars chose the wrong time to surface, darling."

Maxwell clicks his tongue. "And you're only on stage one."

Will, as well as everyone else in the room, raises an eyebrow. "Stage one?" he asks, his voice deep and warm, smooth, like a good cup of coffee or hot cocoa.

"As I mentioned earlier," Maxwell explains with a roll of his eyes, "There are _four_ stages to such a paranormal process. First is the pain, the fever and the fatigue. Second, sensory overload. Thirdly, the bleeding. And last but certainly not least, the healing."

"And Andie's only on the first stage?" Rodney asks. "How long will it take for her to move on to the second?"

Maxwell's eyes land on Jack's hand, gently massaging my leg just above the knee as I lean into his side. "Assuming her fever has already began dropping, not very long. Did you drink the remedy?" he asks me.

"Yes," I snap miserably.

He rolls his eyes, as though I am an annoying younger sibling who is on his last nerve. "It can't be that bad."

I point to the glass beside the bed. "Then you drink it!"

He grins, clearly rubbing his normalcy in my face. "I don't have to, I scar like a normal person."

Jack turns to regard me, touching my leg with a little more strength to gain my attention. I open my mouth to snap back at Maxwell for such a retort, but Jack's voice interrupts me. "Do ye think ye can make it to the _Pearl_, love? She's not too far off."

But Maxwell wags his finger at this suggestion, apparently wanting me to break it. "Andie still has a duty to attend to, whether her nature calls or not."

"But how is she supposed to find Tara if Abegail has booted us all from the building?" Rodney questions.

Maxwell smiles at me."With her reputation, I'm sure she's been exiled from many places. She'll figure something out."

"Tara? A duty?" Elizabeth questions. "What is going on?"

I groan, ignoring her, for I am hating what I am about to say. "Jack, I think I am going to need the keys to the _Black Pearl_'s brig."

Jaden's eyes widen in surprise. "And free the imp?"

"What do you need Kamella for?" Elizabeth questions.

"Kamella? She's aboard the _Pearl_?" Rodney replies, shocked.

Jack rolls his eyes. "Don't remind her, please."

"Who's Kamella?" Maxwell asks.

The noise is beginning to buzz loudly in my ears like a dozen hornets, much worse than it had a couple hours earlier. I press my palms to my ears, praying that it will quickly fade away. "Stop talking so loud," I murmur tiredly. "I don't want my head to burst."

Everyone looks at my boss for the translation. "The beginnings of Stage 2: Sensory Overload," Maxwell explains. "One voice sounds like ten to her."

"And six feels like six-hundred," I snap, wincing at the noise.

Rodney's voice is quiet and gentle now as he speaks. "Andie, what about Hilary?"

The buzzing fades as the room goes still. "I'll have to break into the jail and persuade her to explain everything," I say, rubbing my eyes. Bloody hell, I am so tired, so stressed. There are so many things I have to do and so many people I have to deal with. Jack, Kamella, Rodney, the _Ahoros_, Tara. How am I supposed to do it all?

Jack raises an eyebrow, clearly twisting my words into something he would deem interesting. "Friendly persuasion?"

"Jack!" Elizabeth hisses with a roll of her eyes. "Honestly!"

I wince at the sounds of their voices vibrating in my ears. "A little quieter, please."

Jaden shakes his head. "You're too weak, Andie."

"I'm fine," I say with a roll of my eyes. "I can feel my strength returning already, now that the second stage has started." I've always been a liar. Hell, I drank the slop, did I not? My energy should be returning soon enough, anyways.

Maxwell nods. "Let her go, she'll be fine."

The pirate, sitting beside me, narrows his eyes at him. "Ye seem to be giving a lot of orders, mate."

"That's my job. I give Andie directions."

"I thought that was Chester's doin'."

The Spaniard rolls his eyes. "Chester's not here, is he? He's been reassigned. No more Chester, all right?"

Rodney raises an eyebrow. "I think I liked Chester better."

Maxwell gives him an ungrateful glance, but soon turns back to me. "Get dressed, Andie, I'll be waiting out in the hall." He tosses a bundle of clothing into my lap, leaving me curious as to where he has found said clothing.

Jack watches him closely as he steps from the room, something strange in his eyes. Maxwell has been giving a lot of orders, it's true, and considering Jack is a captain of a ship, I suppose he does not like such competition, if I dare to call it that. A strong, dominant man does not always play well with others of his same demeanor.

"Well," the pirate suddenly says, working his jaw right to left in thought. "Back to the _Pearl_ with the rest of ye, then."

Will's eyes raise. "Jack, do you really think this is such a good idea?"

Elizabeth nods, joining her husband's side. "Will's right, we shouldn't stay here any longer. It's not safe."

"For Andie, or for any of us," Jaden agrees.

_The Ahoros_, I remind myself. They're coming. But Maxwell said it was vital for us to find Tara. She has information, information we need. Perhaps she knows how to stray them away, or how to get rid of them once and for all.

"I can't leave without Tara," I say quietly.

Jack eyes, dark with consideration, shift to the side to regard me, his chin tilted towards me only slightly. "We're riskin' a lot if we stay," he sides.

My eyes lock with his for a long moment. "Then go," I tell him softly. "But she has something I need, and I refuse to leave until I find her."

"What does she have?" Will asks.

My head snaps up to see him, before my eyes shift over to Rodney. "I don't know, exactly."

"You don't know?" Elizabeth repeats.

Understanding my decision because he was standing right beside me when Maxwell explained about Tara and said vital information, Rodney clears his throat and speaks up. "She knows something that will do none of us any good if someone else gets to her first."

Jack's eyes move back and forth between myself and his first mate, trying to decipher what it is we know that he and the rest of them do not. "How important is this information that ye know ye need to know but have no idea what said information is, but would like to know?"

The corner of my mouth pulls up into a smirk before I can control myself. I have missed his confusing conclusions, his slurred speech and his inquisitions that no one else can seem to understand. "Apparently very important," I explain to him.

Suddenly a loud banging ensues upon the door, causing me to jump so far out of my skin I would have landed on the floor if Jack would not have grabbed a hold of me in time. "_Jesucristo!_ What is taking you so long? We've already wasted enough time!" Maxwell shouts, pounding on the door to get our attention.

"He's bloody right about that," I murmur, groaning at the sound vibrations in my head and balancing myself on Jack's shoulder as I raise to my feet, the bundle or dark fabric still clutched in my hand. "I'm getting dressed, everybody out."

"Back to the _Black Pearl_, then, captain?" Jaden asks as he approaches the door, Norma Jean following at his feet.

Will and Elizabeth both stop as well, turning to regard Jack with curious eyes, waiting for his order. Jack takes a moment to think, pulling on the twin braids of his beard with nimble fingers. "Aye, back to the _Pearl_," he finally decides, waving his arm at them to get out the door.

Jack closes the door behind them, keeping his hand on the door handle even as he turns back around, watching me curiously as I slip a pair of britches on beneath my skirts and tie them at my waist. "Darling, they have a point."

"I said you can leave, Jack," I tell him as I undo the buttons and clasps of the dress I am currently wearing, working them apart as efficiently as I can in my weak state.

"Do ye need help with that?" he asks gently.

"I can do it myself."

His eyes raise. "Strange, a minute ago I thought ye actually wanted me around. Then when yer job comes up, suddenly ye want me to leave ye be again."

The dress drops to my feet but I kick it away with bare feet, pulling the crimson colored shirt over my head in tired, lazy pulls. Sliding my hand inside the collar to pull the locks of my hair away from my neck, I wind my fingers around the thickness of it and toss it over my shoulder. "I'm not going to keep you here when you obviously don't want to stay," I explain, not bothering to mention that he's got it all wrong. It's not that I want him to go. Or, maybe it is; but part of me wants him to stay as well. I'm stuck in the middle.

"I told ye I was taking ye back to the Caribbean with me, Andie, and I'm a man of me word."

A smile pulls at my pedal lips as I fasten my belt around my waist, my sword in it's sheath. "I thought you were a dishonest man?"

Jack smirks. "Only when I need to be. But we'll just keep that bit of information between us, all right, darling?"

I sit at the edge of the bed where we had been only a minute ago, slipping on stockings and my boots. "All right," I agree, glancing up at him for only a moment, afraid if I look too long I will fall for him again and all of my plans will fail, that I will be thinking about all of the wrong things at this moment. I should be thinking about Tara and only Tara. Maxwell is bloody right; I have wasted enough time. For all we know, someone has already found her. And what then? Would that guarantee me a headstone?

Jack kneels down in front of me, reaching out and grabbing my chin with two calloused fingers, forcing me with a gentle touch to look at him. His dark, russet eyes move from my mouth back to my irises, leaning forward slowly, almost hesitantly.

And that's when I feel it. Suddenly his fingers spark against my skin, causing me to jump. "What?" he asks, looking at me with surprised, wide eyes. "What is it?"

"The second stage," I reply, reaching up to caress the flesh that almost seems to be burning with Jack's touch, my eyes confused and my breath quick.

"Yer senses," he concludes, "They are very sensitive."

I nod, watching him carefully as he leans forward again, a dangerous sparkle of curiosity in his gaze. He reaches out, his palm just barely connecting with the pale flesh of my neck. A violent shiver runs down my spine as he carefully trails it down the width of my throat, past my collarbones and to my chest. And then, just as his fingers slip gracefully past my collar and drift down that V of flesh that just barely shows the swell of my cleavage, I reach up and grab his hand, my breathing heavy.

"What's wrong, Andie?" Jack asks with a grin. "Gettin' too warm for ye?"

"You're flirting with danger, Jack," I tell him, my voice low and just above a whisper.

Gods, that grin. My eyes lower to see the sparkle of those gold teeth, those smooth, full lips. "I'm always willin' to take my chances," he quips, leaning up to close the space between us.

His kiss is gentle, his mouth barely caressing mine, as though he is afraid if he is too aggressive, he will hurt me. Curious myself, I bring my hands up to touch his face, pressing closer to him. It's hard to explain, the way it feels to kiss someone, especially Jack, when I am like this. When my body is so sensitive, when such a simple caress gives me cold chills, when I can feel the electric heat radiating off his body.

I can smell the salt on his skin, can taste the rum on his tongue as he wraps his arms about my waist, pulling my body against his so our torsos are touching. "This is a bad time," I murmur weakly as his mouth moves to my shoulder, moving the collar of the loose shirt away and revealing freckles from my sunny days aboard the _Pearl_. "I have a duty. Something important."

"Uh huh," Jack replies, his fingers un-doing the buttons of my shirt as he peppers kisses about my neck and face.

He's making me forget, as usual. Only this time, it's not the time for forgetting. "Jack, stop," I tell him as I push against his shoulders, "You remember what happened the last time I ignored my duties in order to engage in such activities with you?"

"We were both feelin' exceptionally good?" Jack asks innocently, but with such a wicked, knowing smile.

I shake my head, swallowing thickly. "Someone died." He opens his mouth to reply but I move away from him, getting up from the bed and moving across the room to the door and running a hand through my long, loose hair. "I can't let that happen again. Not when Tara's fate is up to me."

Jack sighs, waltzing past me and opening the door. "And to think I used to like when ye were being all business-like."

88888

"Took you bloody long enough," Maxwell chastises as we make our way down the hall.

"And you're a bloody asshole, but we take what we have to, don't we?" is my reply. I don't look at him as I say this, but gaze at Rodney as we walk, waiting for the three of us at the end of the hall. Abegail stands, waiting most impatiently at the bottom of the stair case.

Maxwell turns to Jack, his jaw rough and scratchy-looking from the side. "Don't you ever just want to make it end?" he questions, nodding towards me.

Jack raises an eyebrow, although I'm no sure if he is annoyed or amused at this question. "Ye have no idea," I think I hear him murmur, but when I glance his way he clears his throat and says, "Don't be ridiculous, mate."

But my full attention is still focused on Rodney, and that small smile lifting his lips. "I thought you went back to the ship?" I ask him.

His smile lifts, just a small twitch. A kind, gentle smile that makes me want to smile too. "And wait around while you find this lass without me? Better luck next time, Andie."

I walk ahead of Jack and Maxwell, trying not to listen to whatever it is they are arguing about; it's making my head buzz something awful.

"So," Rodney says as we make our way down the stairs, Maxwell and Jack in toe. "You're feeling better?"

I think of the way Jack kissed me back in the room, the way the heat of his flesh and coarse pads of his fingertips on my neck made me shutter. I can feel the blood rush to my cheeks and something sink in my stomach. Am I ashamed for kissing Jack, after wanting so badly just to forget about him? Honestly? I don't think I am.

"Yes," I say, because I fear I am taking too long to answer such a simple, thoughtless question. "A little better."

I wonder what he is thinking when he looks at me like that, with such warm and admirable eyes. How can he look at someone like _me_ like that? Rodney has not seen all of the things I have done, all of the people I have destroyed. He has only seen a couple of the good things I have been responsible for, like saving my older brother's life from a murderous, undead vindictive lover. But has he ever considered that it was my fault her lover was killed in the first place?

Rodney touches my lower back with the tips of his fingers, pressing me forward as we pass Abegail, glaring at us from only a foot away. It's such a gentle, heedless gesture, but it makes me jump, it surprises me so much.

"Are you all right?" Rodney asks, his eyes wide from my sudden spring away from him, snapping his hand back.

"I," I stutter, not sure why I am suddenly feeling so strange around him. "I'm fine. It's just-"

"The second stage?"

I nod. "Yes, the second stage."

"Somethin' wrong?" A voice asks as a figure reaches my side.

I wonder what that look in Jack's eyes is supposed to mean. He's looking at Rodney in such a careful, suspicious manner that I can't help but to almost grow angry in the first mate's defense. Is that look predatory? Is Jack trying to gain his property, in a way? Well, I am no one property, and I can confidently say I'm not Jack's anymore, either. Right?

"Just curious about Andie's jumpiness," he explains to Jack, either ignoring or not noticing his dark, accusing eyes.

"I'm just..." I think about this for a moment. I'm just what? Why _am_ I so jumpy, save for the obvious, in tune, delicate senses? "Tired," I say, deciding this statement is not a complete lie.

Maxwell rolls his eyes. "Would you like some cheese with your whine?"

It'll be a miracle if I do not kill him by the end of the night. "It's not whining if someone asks," I snap childishly.

"Whatever," he says, "Are we off to the jail or not?"

I can feel the concern of Rodney eyes burning on my face. "Are you sure you're up to it?"

I look to Jack. He doesn't look as extremely concerned as Rodney, but not peeved and uncaring like my new advisor, either. I never know what he's thinking or how he feels. Most women would lean towards Rodney in this situation, the kind and compassionate one. I, on the other hand, have always been attracted to everything I'm not supposed to be attracted to.

"I'm fine," I say, a bit of sadness noted in my voice. "Let's get this over with."

"Um," Jack scratches his scruffy jaw uncomfortably. "What about Kamella?"

_That's right, _I think, _We need some way back into _El Fantasma_ in order to get to Tara_.

"I know what yer thinkin', love," Jack suddenly says, surprising me. "And we can always send Elizabeth to find us a way in."

"No," I shake my head, "Abegail knows what Elizabeth looks like, and she's already suspicious of us."

I give Jack a looks as if to say,'you have to do what you have to do'. I haven't forgiven Jack and Kamella for what they did, not completely, and this isn't me giving Kamella another chance. I just want to get this mission over and done with so I can move on with my life and forget all about this.

"Don't ye think she'll be suspicious of a girl she doesn't recognize?"

"There are so many girls in there in the first place that I'm not sure she'll notice," Rodney complies. "It's much easier to dismiss a face you don't know than one you have expelled."

I nod, looking back at Maxwell and Jack. "Precisely."

Maxwell raises his eyebrows. An idea. "We're running short on time, I fear. Therefore, Rodney and I will go to the jail and speak with Hilary. Andie, the two of you will find this _puta_ you insist on using and bring her back here. We'll meet back at this very spot."

Jack narrows his hazardous gaze at the Spaniard, his mouth opening with a comment I fear is no help to the situation. "Fair enough," I conclude, clapping my palm over the pirate's lips.

"Why do _I_ have to be paired up with this ass?" Rodney asks, indignant.

I smile. "Sorry, mate, but Hilary likes you."

He groans. "What exactly do you want me to ask her?"

"Ask? I was thinking more about _threatening_," I reply, my palm still over Jack's mouth. "She did try to kill me, you know. Might want to question her about that, because I have a very keen feeling it had to do with Tara."

"What's your proof?" the first mate asks curiously.

"I don't have any, really. I'm acting on instinct. That'll be your job, I suppose."

Maxwell grabs Rodney's arm, yanking him forward. "Time," he reminds me. "Don't let me get back here before you."

I roll my eyes, removing my hand from over Jack's mouth. "Or you'll what, fire me?"

His eyes drift from my eyes to my feet, slowing over certain curves until he reaches my eyes again. "You'll see."

Jack frowns, seeing this look, but Maxwell just grins and walks away before Jack can get a word in. After a long moment of watching the two of them walk down the road, Maxwell leading the way and Rodney following in annoyance, Jack turns and begins walking the opposite way. "I don't like him," he states plainly, after a moment.

"He is rather infuriating," I agree thoughtfully.

"And Rodney," Jack continues, "There's somethin' with him as well."

I roll my eyes. "Jack, we're running out of time. This isn't the time for you to get jealous."

His eyes narrow at me. "I'm not jealous."

I fight the urge to smile, although I'm sure I feel the corner of my mouth twitch up into a slight grin. "Where's the _Pearl_, Jack?"

"Follow me, love," he says, "She's not too far off."

I do so. I follow close behind, but not too close, allowing him his space and allowing me mine. At this point, I'm not sure where Jack and I stand. Are we together once more, or are we simply just over all together? Sure, that kiss back in my room in the _El Fantasma_ and what happened when he first arrived would point to otherwise, but then again, perhaps his and mine relationship is just physical, as it was in the beginning.

And the most important question, where do I _want_ Jack and I to stand? And his opinion? Where does expect us to?

"Did ye really believe I would choose Kamella over ye?" Jack asks suddenly.

I stare at him in shock. He really has no perception of what to and what not to talk about, I've realized. If he wants to discuss something, he is going to, no changing his mind. And if he doesn't, he has no problem running away from that as well. He always has and always will get his way.

"Do you blame me after what I saw?" I reply, meeting his eyes as he glances at me over his shoulder.

"No," he agrees, turning his head to meet the street before him.

"What was I supposed to think, Jack? I walk in on you kissing her and what? Am I automatically supposed to blame her, to believe it was all a mistake? It didn't look like a mistake to me; it looked like you were kissing Kamella and you were enjoying it." I condemn, keeping my eyes on anything that isn't the man before me.

Suddenly, he stops. I don't realize it until I am at his side, and I halt my strides as well. He looks at me, his eyes both indifferent and determined. "I told ye, Andie, she caught me off guard. Ye walked in right when it happened, at the worst possible time. If I wanted another woman I would have taken her by now, and if I didn't care about ye, I would have let ye go after all this time, don't you realizethat?" Jack raises his voice, reaching out to grab my arms with force. "Aren't ye done testing me, yet? Haven't I proven to ye that I care enough about ye, curse or no, that I'm not gonna think ye crazy and scare ye off as everyone else has?"

I gasp in surprise, not pain, and Jack drops his hands as though he has hurt me. His eyes drop to my arms and then to his hands, where his fingers curl up against his rough palms. "I'm not testing you, Jack," I tell him quietly.

"Aren't ye?" he replies, his voice angry. "Chester told me ye would. Even Loyal did, and I didn't believe them, not like I do now. Ye don't even realize yer doin' it."

"We don't have time for this," I snap, storming past him, only to be pulled back by his fingers wrapping around my wrist.

"I think it's part of why ye didn't want to leave England," Jack tells me, pulling me close, his breath hot and his voice low. "Ye thought they were goin' to understand, finally. But they didn't, did they? Ye just pretended they did. Ye were livin' the normal life ye always wanted to live."

I shake my head at him. "I don't care about living a normal life."

Jack lets me go, shaking his head as though he is pitying me. "For once, darling, I can call ye a horrible liar."

"You don't know anything," I accuse him.

"I think, even though I don't know yer entire story or all of yer battles, that I know ye a lot better than ye would like me to. And ye absolutely despise that, don't ye, Andie?"

My jaw locks. "What I despise," I tell him, feeling my anger boil beneath my skin like water inside a kettle, "Is you, Jack Sparrow."

"Look me in the eyes and tell me ye hate me," he says, obviously not believing my words.

I look him right in those deep, russet eyes. "I hate you," I say, but the moment the words come out, I feel this sick feeling in my stomach. Guilt. I know I don't hate Jack. And I don't know why I want him to think I do.

His lips twitch up into a smile. "Did ye know, darling, that when ye lie, yer head tits a little to the left?"

I frown. Loyal used to tell me this all the time, when I was younger. I would be angry with him, or him me, and he would catch me in a lie and never could resist in bursting out laughing because I never did realize my apparent little 'head tilt'. I had actually even forgotten about it, especially considering Loyal had been the only one to notice it.

"Jack, have you spoken to my brother?" I ask accusingly.

The smile turns into a full, mischievous grin, satisfied that I found him out. "I have, in fact."

My breath hitches in my throat, still feeling as though Loyal and Jack have been keeping me from something all this time, that I have been left out of something important. "Why?" I ask, "And how?"

"He was in Port Royal, something for business," he admits. "Saw him walking back from the docks when ye left me there."

I wait a moment for him to go on, but he doesn't. Annoyed, I ask, "Well? What did he say?"

"He told me that ye spent months wallowing in yer room over me," he says with a grin. "But I could have already told ye that."

I narrow my eyes at him. "I don't _wallow_," I snap at him. "And I especially didn't over _you_."

Jack shakes his head. "I think yer a wallower."

"I think you're infuriating."

"I think ye missed me, all this time."

"I think you're trying too hard."

He takes a step forward, so sly and slow that I don't even realize what he's doing, until I can feel his breath on my lips. "I think I'm going to kiss ye right now."

I open my mouth to reply, not even registering his words, not until his mouth meets mine and I realize I'm kissing him back. I tell myself to step away from him, to stop this before he takes it too far, but my lips are burning and his teeth are nipping at my bottom lip, his fingers moving in my hair and touching my face in such a tender, seductive way that I'm unable to move away from him. It's almost hypnotizing.

_I need to breathe_, I think, and almost as if Jack is reading my mind, his lips leave mine for a short moment where we both can gasp and fill our longues. My eyes closed, I feel a kiss on my brow, on my cheek and my nose before his lips meet mine again.

"Jack," I murmur between kisses, "You're making this bloody hard for me."

I feel that spark again as those knowledgeable fingers curl beneath my chin, his lips moving so tender and slow now, as opposed to his last carnal kiss. "Ye made it hard for me that very moment ye stepped off that dock in Port Royal, darling."

He stops, however, when I take a small step back and my hands fall to the lapels of his coat, my fingers gripping the midnight blue fabric until my knuckles turn white. Jack's forehead touches mine as he leans forward, both of us gasping for breath. My skin feels so strange, the energy radiating off of my flesh like crazy. My eyes flutter open, looking into his own immediately, trying to swallow the tight feeling in my throat.

"Still hate me?" he asks grimly.

I raise an eyebrow. "Please, Jack, don't piss me off."

He presses one last kiss to my mouth in such a sweet, loving manner, surprising me. "You forget, love, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow," he says.

I raise an eyebrow. "I remember."

He groans and rolls his eyes in a childish, immature manner, nuzzling my neck. "I want yer attention."

I fix his collar with my fingers, trying my best not to smile as he kisses my nape. "You have it."

"But in a moment," he argues, "Yer gonna say somethin' along the lines of, 'Jack, yer wastin' my time. We need to skip to the _Pearl_ and get Kamella so we can gallivant back here and save Tara', my intuitive sense of the female creature is tellin' me." He mocks these words in a high voice, as though he actually hears it in such a way.

"Jack, you know I don't sound _nor_ speak like that."

"Am I wrong?" he presses.

I shake my head. "No, you're not wrong."

He nods along down the road. "Come on, then. I'll save ye the time. Ye lead the way."

I begin walking, but I look back at him with curious eyes. "Jack, I don't know where I'm going. You're the one who anchored the _Black Pearl_, remember?"

"That's right, I'll lead the way," Jack replies, wrapping his arm swiftly about my waist and pressing his hand comfortably into my hip. "Why do ye always have to push me around, love? Yer so controlling."

I laugh. "Excuse me? I think it's the other way around."

He grins as though this is some sort of compliment. But then again, considering he is a captain of a ship, it's his job to order and push people around. I just won't take it from him. Not all the time, anyway.

"Pirate."

"_You moved like honey in my dream last night  
__Yeah, some old fires were burning  
__You came near to me and you endeared to me  
__But you couldn't quite discern me  
__Does that scare you?  
__I'll let you run away, but your heart will not oblige you  
__You'll remember me like a melody  
__Yeah, I'll haunt the world inside you  
__And my big secret, gonna win you over  
__Slow like honey, heavy with mood."  
_"**Slow Like Honey" -Fiona Apple**

**88888**

So, it's taken me a while to update, but I hope this 13 page chapter made up for it.

**427 reviews. **Thanks for all the support. I appreciate all of you and your reviews.

**Xtotallyatpeacex:** I love cliffhangers, haha. It's probably obvious, with all of them in this series.

**Azreal-Nicolette:** Haha, you can throw Hilary out of the window if you want. I'm not very fond of her in the first place, considering I didn't really take the character in the direction that I originally intended.

**The. Dead. Addict.:** You don't date, you just rotate with the same people? That's weird, haha. I would think it's somewhat strange to be involved with a guy who had fooled around with one of my friends before me, but maybe I'm just weird, haha. I just think it would be awkward or something? Kind of interesting, though.

**Depps1AndOnly:** No, I don't think Jack is going to kill Hilary. She's not that much of a threat, lol. She's kind of like a little girl wanting attention, like a lackey. Kind of in a pathetic way, haha.

**Rebecca:** No, I probably won't add anything from Dead Man's Chest in this story. It's already considered AU, so I figure not to make things more complicated and just stick with facts from the first movie. I probably will add something from the second movie in a future story, most likely, though.

**Sentinel Sparrow:** Haha. Maybe Andie consumes a lot in a little period of time. I know I do. She wasn't really drinking to get drunk, anyway, just to get all warm and fuzzy and numb so she could drift off and rest. Jack is smart that way.

**HarleyQueen:** It's okay, I saw that you were from Spain and kind of solved it by assumption. Glad you're enjoying the plot.

**InTooDepp:** I love twists. Books that surprise me and make me gasp and rant are always my favorites, which is probably why this story has so many of them. Besides, they are just too fun to write :

**SimplyNorma:** Haha, if I ever do publish a book, you'll be the first I invite to the book signing, my dear, no worries about that.

**VooDooJayneSmith:** There actually won't be anymore chapters to Peas in a Pod, because it's a one shot. Just one chapter. People keep asking me about future chapters; I pit "fin" (end) at the end of the story, so I don't know what else I can do.

**Inus blue eyed miko:** It's all right, I'm happy you enjoyed them, though. Yes, Hilary is bad, lol. I think everyone hates her now. Oops.

**Cayenne Pepper Powder:** Springing things on you all is so much fun : I can't resist!

**Sands:** I already discussed this past chapter with you already, so not much to say here, lol. I'll probably discuss this one with you in the morning (my morning) and I won't have anything to respond to in the next, either Oh well.

**Captain Uschi**: The most interesting fanfic you've read? That's what I love to hear!

**Blue Sugar:** Did you know Hilary was up to something? She wasn't very sneaky, was she? I tried to make her a somewhat obvious character, because I find it entertaining that she is so bad at being bad.

**DarkHiems-hime:** I know there are a few mistakes in the Spanish. Someone has already fixed the lines and e-mailed them to me, but I haven't had time to go back and fix them just yet, but I will eventually. Anyways, glad you feel you relate to Andie and are enjoying the story!

**Bryanna:** Pins and needles? Ouch! Sorry I didn't update sooner, I'll bet your bum really hurts by now!

**Tookie:** Well, right now is when I will be updating, to answer your question.


	33. Deja Vu

**Chapter Thirty-Three**

"_**Flatter me, and I may not believe you. Criticize me, and I may not like you. Ignore me, and I may not forgive you. Encourage me, and I will not forget you. Love me and I may be forced to love you."  
**__**-William Arthur Ward**_

I'm sopping wet as I'm pulled aboard the infamous _Black Pearl_, Jack's hand in mine as he helps me over the side. I'm thankful for the loose shirt and britches I'm adorning at the moment, for a dress would have weighed me down considerably both in the mile walk here and the swim out to the ship.

The crew looks at me with wide eyes, as though I am some sort of a ghost, but somehow manage to shake my hand and welcome me back, despite their shock. Apparently no one, not even Jack's own crew, thought I would return after what happened. I know I never thought I would.

I ring my hair out with my hands, trying to ignore the look Jack is giving me. He's watching me curiously, as though he wants to ask me something but cannot bring himself to do so. It only takes a moment for my nerves to be on end and I direct my gaze towards him. "Well, what is it?"

"Love, are ye sure ye want to be doin' this?" he asks as we stop at the top of the stairs to the brig.

I step forward and touch his hips my with hands, but pull back immediately. I can feel his skin, even through his clothing. I look down at my hands to see my fingers spark once more, sending a chill down my spine. _No touching_, I remind myself, _senses are too charged_.

"Just give me those keys before I bloody change my mind."

He holds them up over his head like a piece of mistletoe, that charming smile knowing and expecting. I roll my eyes and reach for them, ignoring his request, but he only lifts his hand higher, far from my reach. Distracting him, I lean forward, a slight smile tugging at my lips as my kiss hovers above his mouth for a long, intense moment. Quickly, I swat him in the gut hard enough to surprise but not hard enough to actually sting, and snatch the keys from his hand before his mind reels.

He pouts, and I laugh. "You asked for it."

Suddenly, his expression changes to something akin to hesitant. "Can I ask you a question?"

My heart begins to throb terribly, my head begins pounding. I'm somewhat light-headed. "Sure," I say in response. I wish this scaring ordeal would just end, already! Didn't Maxwell say the remedy I drank would speed up the process?

"What does this make us?" Jack asks me.

I raise an eyebrow, my concentration honestly not on the pirate or our relationship at this point. My body feels so weak. The process does not seem to be speeding up, but going in reverse. "I don't know," I say, leaning back against the side of the ship and trying to deal with the matters at hand. "What were we before?"

Jack's dark eyes narrow at me. "Are you all right?"

I run a hand through my hair. "Still don't feel well, is all."

"I thought you were feeling better?"

"I am," I reply. "Or, I was."

"Andie, I honestly don't think you're ready to..."

I step away, my eyes narrowing at him. "I'm fine, Jack. What is important now is finding Tara. I can't let the curse get in the way of that."

I'm shaking. _Why are you so nervous?_ _And dammit, why is your heart threatening to bust out of your chest?_

"Let me take care of this one." Jack suggests, reaching out as though I need him to hold me up. I don't; I can stand on my own two feet. Well, as long as they stop swaying.

"Stop trying to help me all the time," I snap. "All you do is tell me how messed up I am. I'm fine, all right? I'm not a freak."

His russet eyes grow angry. "I never called you a freak. If you would stop trying to control everything all the time and let me-"

I scoff. "So now I'm controlling?"

"You've always been controlling."

I shake my head, pushing past him and towards the stairs. "Get the fuck out of my way, Sparrow."

And then, as I begin descending the stairs, my hand clutched tightly on the thin wooden banister, my heart begins to throb even more painfully. Kamella is down there and all she does is add to my problems. I don't want to see her, I really don't. I don't want to speak with her. I really wish she would just fall off the edge of the Earth, honestly, but I know we all can't get what we want. Besides, I know I need her for this mission. She can help find Tara and all of this will be finished and I can finally rest. For a little while, at least. Like Jack said, I can't just run from destiny; it will come back and bite me in the ass if I try to ignore it. Those words do hold some truth, all though I would never admit this to him; especially now that I am extremely pissed at him. Controlling? Surely not I!

The stairs seem to take forever to descend, and yet forever still does not seem long enough. I half expected Jack to follow my footsteps, but I think I make him angry enough that he will lock himself in his cabin for the rest of the night with a bottle of rum.

_Deep breath_, I tell myself. _One last step. _

"Well, look what the bloody cat dragged in. Never thought I'd see your face around here again. Come to tear my head off for stealing your man?"

There, sitting in the corner of her cell with a book in her hand, is the witch herself, her light brown curls looking perfect and her big blue eyes sparkling with amusement. I raise an eyebrow. "As I can see from your whereabouts at this moment, you haven't stolen anything from me, Kamella."

Her smile is mocking. "It's just a temporary placement."

"Look," I begin, leaning against the wall as though she is plagued and I am fearful to take another step forward. What I am afraid of, though, in reality is stepping forward with nothing to grab onto. My eyesight is blotting from the pain in my head. "I need your help. There's a girl hidden in a brothel in town, and we need you to help us get inside."

Her gaze is humored. "Are you telling me, dressed like that, you couldn't get inside yourself?"

My eyes narrow at her, glowing a dangerous shade of gold. I don't have to look down to know what she means; I'm dressed in men's clothing, although my shirt is still fitting in a way that with one first look I could not be mistaken for a man. Besides, with my long hair and feminine features... _Wait. Why am I defending myself?_

"Are you willing to help or not?" I snap.

She grins. "Fine."

I lift my hand with the keys, preparing myself to take a step forward, but moving my body seems so difficult at this point. "Andie?" I hear. "What's wrong?" It's Kamella, sounding concerned. What is wrong with the world when _Kamella _sounds worried?

"I can't..." I begin, but my body gives in, and I feel myself fall to the floorboards. I'm awake, I know, but my vision is blurred and black. I hear vicious pounding; it's Kamella, trying to break free from her cell. It's still locked. "Andie!" she yells. "Andie can you hear me? Jack! Jack!"

Jack must not have stomped off to his room just yet (or perhaps I am giving myself too much credit), because a pair of feet begin stomping down the brig stairs, followed by more. I can hear another female voice as well as too rough, masculine voices. I can feel a pair of hands. I can hear Jack shouting my name, shaking me. I can't respond, I feel too sick. Something is not right.

"Andie, please, don't do this to me again," I hear Jack say.

I fight to open my eyes. I can see him, leaning over me, his palms touching my clammy cheeks and forehead. "I don't think the remedy is working," I tell him.

"What is she talking about?" Kamella demands.

"Maxwell gave her something to drink to help her scarring."

Kamella narrows her eyes. "There is no _remedy_ for scarring. Who the hell is Maxwell?"

Jack quickly glances down at me, and then back to the tall, beautiful woman behind the bars. "He took Chester's place."

"He was reassigned," Kamella says to herself, nodding from what I can see. I can't stop blinking, closing my eyes. Jack's hands are too warm on my flesh. I keep trying to swat him away but my movements are ludicrous. "Something doesn't smell right in this situation."

"What does that mean?" Jack asks carefully, his jaw set. He's angry.

"Jack," I say, my voice low. He looks down at me. "Rodney. He's gone to the jail with Maxwell. What if..."

Jack nods, catching my drift. What if Maxwell is dangerous. What if this was his plan all along, to gain our trust and then cut us out of his way, one by one? What if he is not who he says he is? "I'll take care of it," he says. "Come here."

Jack lifts me easily into his arms, wrapping my arms around his neck. I'm too weak to hold them there. "It's all right, darling," he says, understanding my plight.

Kamella watches as Jack approaches the stairs. "Hey! Aren't you going to let me out of here?"

The pirate looks over his shoulder. "I'll deal with you in a minute," he tells her. "Be ready when I get back."

I try my best to keep my eyes focused on him, but they keep closing despite my attempts. I'm just so tired. "What do you mean, be ready?"

"Kamella and I are going to take care of this," he says, giving me a stern look when I try to argue with him. "Hush, now. It's going to be fine, do you hear me?"

I nod. "I hear you. Doesn't mean I believe you, but I hear you."

Jack steps onto the deck. "Better start believing then, love."

* * *

"Don't let her out of your sight. And most importantly, don't let her out of that bed. If she tries anything-"

I roll my eyes, opening them to peek over at Jack, speaking to all Will, Elizabeth, AnaMaria _and_ Nolan. Who knew it would take four people to just keep me under control, even when I'm ill. "I can bloody hear you, you know."

"And you," Jack begins, coming over to loom over me. "Behave yourself. Get some rest."

"I'm not a child, Sparrow," I tell him, glancing over his shoulder to see Elizabeth waving everyone out of the door. 'They need a moment' I hear her explain, like he and I are star-crossed lovers, about to be torn apart by some Romeo and Juliet tragedy. Gag me.

"Might as well be," the pirate kids, leaning down to kiss my forehead. He frowns, replacing his smooth lips with a calloused palm. "Still feverish," he states thoughtfully.

"What are you thinking?" I ask him quietly.

"I'm thinking I want you to stop shaking," Jack states, pulling the covers over my body more and trying to warm my arm with his hands.

I roll my eyes. "Do you think Maxwell did this?"

Jack inspects my expression closely. "I'm thinking you were ill before Maxwell even came around."

"I have a bad feeling about him," I state.

He runs fingers through my hair, only making me sleepier. "I'll give him the benefit of the doubt, for now. Just get some sleep, all right? I want you feeling better by the time I get back."

"How long?" I question him girlishly.

He smiles, kissing my knuckles. "Be back before you even know I'm gone," I hear him say, but a moment later I drift off into a deep, strange sleep where I am overtaken by a wave of dreams.

It all seems familiar as the snow crunches beneath my boots, the woods overcome with an eerie silence and the sky a dead gray. Deja vu spins in my head; I've been here before. I hear a noise behind me and I spin in order to catch sight of the source, my heart pumping faster than it seems it should be. I feel as though it's going to burst from my chest and every creature hidden in the trees and dirt can hear it like I can. I glance around, my hazel eyes searching every inch of the area I can. Nothing is there but my footprints in the damp, fluffy snow.

When I turn around again, I gasp loudly, almost tripping over my own feet as I reel back. There, standing before me is my old friend Stanley, blood staining the right side of his face and an icy look in his eyes. "You're dead," I accuse him.

"Am I?" he asks, patting his chest and reaching up to his face. He pulls back crimson fingers. "Ah, so I am. A shot to the head. Must have forgotten."

I swallow thickly, tears forming in my eyes. "Why did you... How could you take your own life like that?"

Stanley laughs. _Laughs._ "You know I wouldn't do something so foolish."

He takes a step forward, and I take one back. "What do you mean, you wouldn't? You did, I saw the bod... _you're_ body."

"Don't be so naive. You know not everything you see is the truth."

I cannot believe what I'm hearing. "But I _saw_ it. This was suicide, I saw the articles, the notes..."

He laughs, stepping closer to me once more. His eyes are so cold, so unlike Stanley. But every inch of his face, from his thin lips to the scar just below his right nostril, is the very same. Even his hands, calloused from the swords and weapons he was so fascinated with throughout his life, were the very same. Even if this was a dishonest ghost standing in front of me; I felt obligated to it as though it was my friend himself. "It wasn't suicide."

I swallow. "You were murdered?"

He rolls his eyes. "You giving him exactly what he wants."

"Who? What who wants?" This voice doesn't even sound like me, so frightened, so soft. So _young_.

"You know," he tells me. "You know exactly who I am speaking of. You're leading that pirate and Kamella into a death trap. They're going to end up just like me; lost."

"Lost?" I repeat, my throat caught on tears.

"_Dead_."

"No," I argue, feeling the shame drip off my lashes and run down to my chin. "Stop it."

I can see the anger gathering in his eyes. "Wake up and do something about it, princess! _Wake up!_"

I gasp, sitting straight up in the Jack's bed. It takes me a moment to realize where I am and how I got here, but the moment I do, I'm up on wobbly legs and throwing on my boots. Jack and Kamella are in trouble. They need my help.

"Where are you going?" I hear a voice ask.

It's Will. "Jack needs me," I say.

He shakes his head, placing his hands on my shoulders and trying to force me back into the bed. "No, Jack wants you to stay here and rest. You're not well, Andie."

"I know I'm not well, you fool. But Jack and Kamella need me. They're going straight into a trap."

Will's eyes narrow. "How do you know this?"

"A friend told me."

"Andie, no one has been in this room besides Elizabeth and myself. AnaMaria and Nolan are right outside the door, and even they have not spoken to you. You were dreaming, that's all."

I grab a jacket from the chair in the corner, side-stepping Elizabeth's fiancé. "Precisely. Stanley told me in a dream. He told me they are going to die if I don't help them."

"Stanley? Andie, Stanley is dead."

From the corner of my eye, I can see my pistol sitting on the table beside the bed. My hand reaches out and it's warm between my fingers before I even realize what I'm doing. My finger pulls down the safety and it's cocked and right between Will's brown eyes. "I know he's bloody dead. Now move out of my way before you join him."

"_All the times that I've felt like this won't end  
__It's for you  
__And I taste what I never could have  
__It was from you  
__All the times that I've cried  
__My intentions were full of pride  
__But I waste more time than anyone."  
_"_**Outside" -Staind**_

* * *

First of all, I must apologize for the lack of updates these past few months. I've been so busy with work and school, and all though this has not stopped me from updating in the past, I will be honest and say I had a lot of personal things going on in my life and just lacked the inspiration and want to write anything. Here it is, though, the thirty third chapter to _Lady Fair_ and I hope you all are still hanging in there and enjoying the story. Feedback, as always, is much appreciated and wanted. I'm sure the next update will not take as nearly as long as this one has.

If you are still a fan of my writing, I have another story up and running at Ebony's POTC fanfiction site, Opportune Moment dot net. I think I have five one-shots and a long term story up over there for anyone interested in reading more Pirates stories by me.

I'm also hoping to get some Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Veronica Mars fiction in the mix, as well. Now if only I had the time to do all the things I want to do :

Love to all,

_Lady A_


	34. Don't Panic

**Chapter Thirty-Four**

"_**Every man is afraid of something. That's how you know he's in love with you; when he is afraid of losing you."  
**__**-Anonymous **_

"Andie," Will says, his eyes wide. "Put that down. You don't know what you're doing."

My hand is shaking. I blink, but I cannot seem to make the pain in my head disappear. "Stanley shot himself, and he says Jack is going to be lost, and I don't hate him even though I said I did, and my head..."

Will takes another step forward, but I even the gun, my hand shaking it so much I have to reach out and grasp it with another. "Andie," he says, slowly, carefully, "You're sick, all right? Jack is going to be fine. Listen to yourself, this isn't you."

"Stanley..."

"Is dead," Will repeats slowly. "You saw him, didn't you?"

I think about this for a long, hard second. I did see him. And I saw the rope, and Norma Jean... "Stanley _hung_ himself."

"Yes he did."

I shake my head, my brow drawing close in confusion. "But his head was bleeding," I try and explain. "He was shot."

Mr. Turner shakes his handsome head, a lock of his chestnut waves falling across his strong, wide shoulder. "What are you talking about?"

I lower the gun, grasping it tighter in my weak hold as it almost falls to the floor of Jack's cabin. "I was dreaming."

"Yes, you were," Will tells me, coming closer to me with a hesitant step. "And we both know dreams are nonsense. Jack's absolutely fine. Now, give me that pistol, Andie."

I lurch it away from him. "I have a bad feeling."

"Lie down, will you?" he says. "You're swaying."

I sit at the edge of the bed, where the sheets smell like salt and musk of the pirate I care for so incredibly much. Much more than I would like, sometimes. "He almost killed me, you know, when we walked in on them in your kitchen. When I saw them like that. So intimate. It almost killed me."

Will nods. "But everything is better now. It didn't mean anything. It wasn't intimate at all."

I glance at him, not noticing as he leans in slightly for the gun. "How do we know that?"

"Because if Jack is going to lie to anyone, it wouldn't be you."

I watch as he walks back across the room, and it's only then that I notice the weapon in his hand. I didn't even notice him take it from my grasp. Gods, I'm so tired. So tired, so worried. "Where is he?"

Will puts a hand at the small of my back, leads me back to the top of the bed. I lay back and I feel him tugging off my boots. "He went to find Rodney and Maxwell at the jail, remember?"

"Oh."

"Get some rest. Don't make me sing you to sleep. I can't carry a tune to save my life."

I turn over in the bed, the quilts up to my chin to savor the warmth of them, and inhale.

I sleep. I sleep but I don't rest.

_I dream once more, about the snow, about the cold, about my old friend. I'm wearing a red cape, much like little red ridinghood, and the snow sticking to my long eyelashes doesn't bother me one bit._

_Stanley touches my forehead. "Jesus Christ, princess."_

"_What?" I ask._

"_You're burning up."_

"_It's nothing," I say. _

"_Oh, it's something."_

_I feel like a child. "Why is your head bleeding?"_

_He looks confused for a moment, then touches his hair once more. Then, his eyes go soft as though he had forgotten. Stanley shrugs. "Sometimes things get confused in the transition to dreams. It's how I would have done it."_

_That's right. He thinks he was murdered. "You hung yourself."_

_Something flashes in those blue eyes and he reaches out and shakes me violently, his expression wild. "Why don't you understand?" he demands. "You know me so much better than that."_

"_Knew," I correct him, "I knew you. I haven't seen you, in what? Two years?"_

_He shoves me, harder than he meant to, I think, and I trip over my own feet and tumble into the snow. "Stop trying to make since out of this, princess. It doesn't matter what you saw. You found another one, didn't you? That young girl? Open your eyes, Andie Bryant. This wasn't some damn coincidence."_

"_Who, then?" I ask him. "Who would do this?"_

_He shakes his head, this small, sad smile on his smooth lips. "You're leading everyone right to them."_

"_To who?"_

"_The others," he replies. "Find Tara, princess. She has answers unlike you would believe. Oh," he continues, as though an afterthought just popped into his head. "Loyal is searching for you. Something quite important, I deem."_

_Loyal? Looking for me? "Why would he want to do that?"_

_Stanley shrugs. "He's bent on finding you. He's close, I think."_

_A possibility crosses my mind, and suddenly I panic. "Is something wrong with father?"_

"_No."_

"_Did Anson follow him?"_

_Stanley smiles at something over my head. "I don't know."_

_I frown. "Stanley, why do you keep playing games with me?"_

"_Games?" he questions. "This isn't a game. Just get up off the ground." I try. I try, but I can't. I'm weak, I'm tired. I have a heavy fever and it's weighing me down considerably. "Come on," Stanley insists with that same knowing grin. "Get up."_

_That's when I feel the hand on my shoulder. I jump, whether from surprise or from the warmth of the touch, I don't know. My hazel eyes meet the golden hand, with long, strong fingers and shiny jems. It's Jack, and he's looking at me with this smoldering look that pulls me in from the moment our sights meet. "What are you doing here?" he asks._

"_What do you mean?" I reply, looking back to Stanley for help. He's gone. _

"_What would you do without me, Emery?" the pirate questions with a smile, stepping in front of me before sinking down into the snow with me. What did he just call me? He rubs my arms to warm me, but I feel no cold. No breeze. His chest presses into mine, forcing me to lie on my back in the fluffy, thick snow._

"_What's wrong with you?"_

_He kisses my chin. "Sometimes you forget. You forget that you're still Emery Butler, whether or not you want everyone to know and remember you as Andie Bryant. You forget that you're the daughter of a duke, meant to live the life every little lass dreams of. You forget you're meant to be with someone of your same stature."_

"_But that's not me anymore," I whisper to him, pleading. "I'm not sure if it ever was."_

"_Oh, it was."_

"_No," I argue. "It wasn't. You didn't even know me then. You saw me there with Loyal and my father and Anson, but I was faking every moment of it. I hate it there, Jack." I finally take a moment to breathe, to inspect the expression on his attractive face. It's emotionless, as it always is when I dream of him. Sometimes I actually worry he feels nothing at all. "I want to spend every moment here, wasting time with you."_

"_Throw all of your boots out," he demands. _

_I laugh, thinking this is a joke. His face, however, is completely serious. "Not amused, I see. Why my boots?"_

"_So you cannot run away."_

_I shake my head. I still cannot feel the freezing temperature of the snow beneath me. "Jack, I told you... I'm not going to run away again." _

_His fingers dig into the thin frame of my shoulders. I cringe, trying to get away from him. "I don't believe you," he bites out._

"_Jack," I cry, "Stop, you fool. You're hurting me._"

"_That's the idea, love."_

I jerk awake. "Jack?" I call instantly.

"He's not back yet," is the response.

I feel hands on my waist and my eyes snap open, my hands flying up from my sides and ready for a fight. I pause, however, when I see Jaden, the _Black Pearl's_ doctor, beside me. "Jaden, what are you doing?"

He cuts a piece of gauze and sets the roll beside me. "You're bleeding," he replies.

Ah. That's right, the scarring. "My headaches gone," I notice.

"Whatever Maxwell made you drink must be doing the trick," Jaden replies, wrapping the white bandages around my right hand as well. "What did you do here?" he asks of the wound.

I ignore his question. "Any word from Jack or Rodney?"

He looks up briefly, meeting my eyes for a moment, before concentrating on my hand once more. "No. I'm surprised Rodney wasn't here, waiting outside the cabin the moment he had heard you had fallen ill again. All though, I'm sure Jack wouldn't be very pleased with him if he had."

"Wouldn't be pleased?"

"Another man rushing back to see my lass? I would be a little suspicious as well," the doctor says as a matter of fact, pricking up all of his supplies.

"Suspicious of what?"

Jaden shakes his head at me. "You're not a dumb girl, Andie. Don't tell me you haven't noticed. Take it easy, all right? I'm going to bring you up some tea in a minute."

_Notice what?_ "I hate tea," I remind him gently.

"You'll drink it and you'll enjoy it," he demands in that bored yet amused manner he always has with me.

I smile at him. "Just tell me you missed me and get it over with, Jaden."

He raises an eyebrow and points at me accusingly. "Over my dead body, and you know it. I always knew something wasn't right with you, lass. Now you're bleeding but have no open wounds. I saw dead people rise and disappear into thin air, I've seen you so feverish and sick it made my heart ache on more than just one occasion, and now this _scaring process_? You're a super natural pain in my ass is what you are."

"Made your heart ache, huh?" I tease him, "So you really do like me, don't you, doctor?"

He opens the cabin door. "Why, hello there, Rodney," he turns back to me, his face not one bit surprised. "What did I say?"

"Andie?" a voice says as Rodney's figure pushes past Jaden. "Are you alright?"

His blue sea eyes are frantic. "I'm fine," I reply on an impulse. "What's wrong?"

"Look, I know you're sick and all, and your scars and-"

"Rodney!" I push. "Spit it out, damnit!"

"Jack's in a bit of a fix. And he told me not to come get you, but..." he explains, pausing as I shove him out of my way, ignoring as Elizabeth and Will rush into the room. I barely hear their questions or demands for me to return to bed as I pull on my boots as quick as I can.

Rodney tries to explain to them that Jack and Kamella need me, rushing through his words to give them the shortest explanation, but I am already out the door. "Jaden," I address him as he runs after me, "Get ready to row Rodney and I to shore."

But the young doctor shakes his head. "Andie, you're not well. I don't think you should-"

Despite my weakness, however, I still reach out with a thin hand and grab him by his collar. "Prepare a long boat. _Now_."

His eyes glance over to Rodney, who nods and begins barking orders to the crew, considering Jack is elsewhere and it's his job to keep everyone in line. "Will," Rodney says, "You're in charge of the _Pearl_. Momentarily."

"Don't let it go to your head," I tell him, my eyes glued to the shore and the dock, wondering where in the towns Jack is and what is going on in his head. Wondering if he is all right, and if he is thinking of me. Jesus Christ, I hope he is fine and I am not too late. Perhaps Stanley was telling me the truth in that dream, whether it was just a dream or not.

The moment the crew has the long boat set up, I grab Rodney's arm and drag him in, urging the men to lower it the moment he is sitting down beside me. "I want you to tell me everything," I say to the first mate.

Jaden, Elizabeth, and Will are glancing at me disapprovingly. "Andie, I promised Jack I would not let you out of that bed, no matter what happened."

I glare at her. "I know you would do the same if Will needed you."

There is no emotion to her expression as she replies, "Which explains exactly why I am not doing anything to stop you."

I nod at her in thanks, watching Will's face twist with his thoughts. He knows he could stop me if he wanted to, but perhaps he is thinking of all of the rational things he has done to save his love in the past. And I know he has; Jack has told me.

"Rodney," I press again as we begin farther and farther away from the _Pearl_ with each hesitant thought and the crew watching down on us, questions flying around about Jack and what is going on. I'd like to know as well.

"Maxwell and I were at the jail, as we said we would be. Hilary admitted nearly everything, considering we had the keys to her cell dangling in front of her nose. Tara is inside, Andie, and she has something important, although Hilary isn't sure what it is. Her job was just to lead you off your path. Therefore, whoever or whatever is keeping you from Tara knows a lot about you, or at least what you're capable of. They know you're close. That's when we ran into Jack," Rodney explains in a low voice.

I find myself watching his expression closely, for any sign that Jack is okay. Despite my shaking and confusing dreams about the pirate, I can't help but to worry about him, to ache for him. I can't help who I care for, that's for certain. But would I choose to love anyone else as I obviously do for him? Probably not. But these words will never be repeated. Never.

I wait for Rodney to continue, but as his lips part to continue with his story, he leans forward and down, his brow furrows. "Andie, you're bleeding."

I glance down towards my torso. The shirt I am wearing is speckled with red across my torso, reminding me of the wounds from Ivory Nisa, the last battle I had fought before being shipped off to England and experiencing the most unhappy year of my entire life. I press my palm to my abdomen, soaking it through to my hand. "The third stage," I say aloud, glancing back up at Rodney. "I guess Jaden didn't wrap me enough."

Jaden stops rowing, glancing back at us. "Rodney, grab my bag beside you're leg. There should be something in there to wrap her with."

_Heh. A doctor is never found without his bag. _"Keep rowing," I tell Jaden, and urging Rodney to continue. "I'll be fine, this is normal. Just tell me that he's all right."

Rodney nods as he raises his whiskered chin to look up at me for only a moment, searching through Jaden's bag to find only a clean white rag that could be useful to us. "So far, he's fine," he says as I grab the rag away from him, sliding it beneath my shirt and applying pressure. "He did give Maxwell a nice beating, though, when he caught us off guard. The Captain really is crazy about you, Andie."

I smile, just a little, because the pain in my stomach is beginning to resurface. "He was very worried."

He nods. "As I could tell. Jack demanded answers, Maxwell provided them. Maxwell can surprisingly put up a good fight, too. Jack was struggling there for a while. Anyways, Maxwell explained that the normal scarring process takes six days. The remedy he gave you speeds it up to twenty-four hours. It doesn't make the pain go away completely, it just makes it all over with quicker."

"And this is why Jack is in a fix?"

Rodney shakes his head. "No. We went back to the_ El Fantasma_, and... well, I don't really think I can explain to you exactly what we found."

I look at him unbelievingly. "Rodney, you came and got me for a reason."

"Andie," he says hesitantly. "The place is vexed. It has to be."

"Vexed?"

"The outer walls were covered. It was swarming. Swarming with bees, Andie. They were everywhere. The only person who could get within five feet of them was Kamella. We figured it was a curse thing. I told Jack I was coming back to get Jaden, because Jack was stung and he's swollen. He told me not to fetch you, but..."

"It's better this way," I state. "Did Kamella go in?"

Rodney nods. "Which is why I thought it was best to wake you. She shouldn't go in alone."

I look up to see the docks approaching. We're close. And the _El Fantasma_ is only a couple blocks away. I reach down to my belt, realizing I don't have any weapons. "Where the hell is my pistol?"

Jaden doesn't even turn to face me as he replies, "Will took it from you. Threatening to kill him, you were."

I roll my eyes. "What a bloody whelp, that man is. Jack was right about that."

"Andie," Rodney says. "Jack is going to have me flogged when he finds I came to get you."

"He's not going to do any such thing," I say with a shake of my head. "I would never let him do that. You came to get help, it's not like-"

"Not like you're bleeding and feverish and pale as a ghost?" Rodney interjects. "Good point."

I glare at him. "I'm fine, Rodney. Trust me. I've been through worse."

"Like when Ivory Nisa nearly ran you through with a sword?" Jaden asks from the front of the long boat.

"Yes, thank you, Jaden," I groan. "God damnit, can't you row any faster?"

88888

"I broke my word, I tarnished my duties. Jack's going to kill me."

Rolling my eyes, I try to keep up with Jaden and Rodney's frantic walking pace. "He's not going to kill you, will you bloody shut the hell up?"

"You've never seen Jack when he's-"

"Angry?" I reply. "The fuck I haven't!"

Rodney rolls his eyes. "With you it's different, Andie. He cares for you. You're not a member of his crew. You don't have duties and responsibilities."

My brow furrows. "You have to be kidding me. Duties and responsibilities? What do you think we're doing here in the first place!"

All right, so he's making a somewhat valid point. I'm not member of Jack's crew. I'm not expected to follow his orders, well, only to a certain extent. It's really not the same. "He's still not going to kill you for coming to fetch me. I'm saving his ass, remember?"

"And you'll be the one he's going to be thanking," Jaden says a few feet ahead of us. "Not Rodney."

I roll my eyes. "Jack doesn't thank anyone for anything." It's then that I think I see the building up ahead. Well, I see the crowd, anyway. And as we approach even closer, I see what it looks like to be millions and millions of bees flying and attacking the brothel itself. "Oh my God..."

Jaden stops in his tracks and I run right into his back. "What the hell is that?"

"Bees," Rodney says. "A lot of them."

At this point, I decide to go around Jaden and begin pushing through the crowd, one hand still holding the towel to my stomach, and the other weaving my way through. The people of this town are in shock, some frantic, some amazed, and some not amuse at all. It's funny how everyone reacts differently to the unknown. But even I have never seen anything like this, and I have seen a hell of a lot of strange things.

"Andie," I hear Rodney's voice from just behind me, "Be careful."

"Where's Jack?" I ask him.

"Around back, where there weren't as many people," he explains.

I break into a run, dropping the towel on the ground in my wake. The wound on my abdomen had nearly stopped bleeding, anyway. "Move," I yell at the person in front of me, shoving people out of my way and trying to get to the building as soon as possible. I stop, however, when I finally do reach _El Fantasma_, nearly out of breath and amazed by the sight before me. There are so many of them, it just looks like a moving, solid black building. The bees themselves almost blend together.

"Come on," Rodney says when he reaches my side, grabbing me by the hand. "He's back here."

With Jaden in tow and completely out of breath, Rodney leads up back behind _El Fantasma_, back by some landscaping and behind a wall meant for privacy for the guests. I see Jack immediately, standing back and away from Maxwell and Norma Jean. I approach the pirate quietly, but he instantly turns at the sound of footsteps.

His eyes move from me, to Rodney, to Rodney's hand in mine. The moment we both see this, our grasp drops and I rush towards him.

His jaw hardens at the sight of me. "Why aren't ye in bed?" he asks. "Yer not well." He's watching Rodney with suspicious eyes, but is still keeping his attention me.

"And miss this?" I ask with a smile, swinging my arm out towards the building swarming with insects. "I'm fine, Jack."

He reaches out to touch my cheek as I approach him. "Yer too pale."

"I'm _fine_."

"Yer bleeding."

"It's just a minor setback."

Maxwell is looking at me, that determined look in his eyes. "Kamella went inside."

"_She's_ not," Jack argues with him, knowing exactly what Maxwell is just about to suggest.

"It's her job," Maxwell snaps.

"I don't give a flying rat's ass," Jack replies, taking a step towards him. "She's not going in there. I won't allow it."

I sigh. "Jack," I say, "You know I have to."

His head snaps back towards me. "No."

I run a hand through my hair. Why is he always so difficult? "I have to find Tara, you know this. It's the reason why we're here, remember?"

Jack shakes his head at me, his russet eyes angry and worried. "No, I'm here to get ye. To bring ye back to the Caribbean with me. Yer here to find Tara, but Kamella has already done yer job for ye. Hooray, back to the _Pearl_ we go," he says, grabbing me by the arm and trying to pull me in the opposite direction.

"Jack," I say in a low voice so only he heard me, placing my hand over his. "You know I can't go back with you. Not just yet. I have to do this. I _have_ to." His eyes look much sadder, now. A look I rarely ever see from him. I lean up on my tipy-toes, giving him a soft, slow peck to the lips. "Wish me luck," I say.

He doesn't say a word. I shake my head at him, letting go of his hand. He knows who I am, he knows what I have to do. He was the one who said I needed to not run from destiny, was he not? I turn, beginning to walk away, but something doesn't feel right. What if he leaves while I'm inside? What if he thinks I am turning my back on him forever, choosing my duties over him?

I turn around before it's too late, grabbing the collar of his shirt between my fingers and pulling his mouth to mine. I give him the most passionate kiss I think I have ever been capable of, my stomach aching to stay with him, but pull away before it's too late. I catch his eyes with mine for a moment before I whisper in his ear, "I want to be with you."

I feel his grasp tighten on my waste, nearly breaking my heart, before I turn and approach the _El Fantasma_ for what feels like the very last time.

"_Hours pass, and she still counts the minutes that I am not there  
__I swear I didn't mean for it to feel like this,  
__Like every inch of me is bruised."  
_"_**Bruised"**__ -__**Jack's Mannequin **_

Finally, an update! I'll bet most of you thought I was dead or something. Nope, I'm alive and kicking and finally able and willing to continue this story and update frequently again. Senior year is so busy and hectic, and my working schedule, which consists of forty hours a week, has enabled me to work on this story the past few months. I can't apologize enough. But I'm back, and Andie's back, and I can only hope that you're all still with me and happy about this fact.

Thanks a million to whoever has reviewed or Pmed me this past few months just to check up. I really appreciate it. I'm hoping to update sometime again within the next couple weeks, or at the most, within the next month. I'm going on vacation at the end of this week, but I'm getting a laptop as a Graduation present, so I hope to bring it along and work on it there.

**Take care,  
**Lady Anaranë


	35. Judgement

**Chapter Thirty-Five**

**_"The only difference between a flower and a weed is... judgement."  
_**

The strange thing is, as I approach the brothel, the bees part as though they know exactly who I am, exactly what I'm here for. The create their own little doorway, allowing me inside. The interior of the _El __Fantasma_, however, does not appear the same. The walls and the extravagant decorations are still standing, of course, but there are dead golden insects scattered on the floor, some even covering the walls. They buzz around and continue on with their ways and don't give me one bit of trouble as I walk down the halls.

I don't see any of the girls. No, I suppose they all got out while they could. "Kamella!" I call, whether or not it's a good thing or not to raise my voice in this situation I do not know. There's no response.

Walking down the main hall of the brothel, all I can note is how eerie it feels and how the sound of my boots clicking against the wood flooring seems to disturb the quiet of the entire building. There's a slow hissing from behind me, and I turn slowly, spotting two black, venomous snakes lurking in the corner. Perhaps Rodney was correct, if he hadn't already proved himself so; there's something very strange going on here that is connected with the Curse of Athena.

"I bloody hate snakes," I hiss to myself, turning back around and continuing my way down the empty hall. "Bloody things are always following me around..."

"I wonder why."

When I look up, my eyes meet the clearest, bluest eyes I have ever seen. Owned by a young woman with long, braided blonde hair and a small mole over the left side of her lip, and a very strange, amused smile on her sweet face. She was beautiful. With pale skin and pink cheeks, her face was extremely chaste and kind, yet fierce. "It's a long story," I say.

She raises an eyebrow, a small, crooked smirk lifting her mouth. "Not too long," she replies. "You're cursed. Join the club."

Somehow, I'm not surprised. "Tara, I presume?"

She nods. "I've heard quite a lot about you, Andie Bryant. They say you're the best at what we do. And now you've turned pirate? I have to say, I admire you, but I don't envy you." I give her a questioning expression and her smile grows. "I hate water. Could never do it, myself."

"You want to know a secret?" I say. "I do too. I get terribly sea sick." She laughs and I have to note how young she seems. She only looks to be about eighteen or nineteen years old, her body appearing small but strong and her face so young. "You've created quite a stir around here," I tell her.

"It's all a test," she says.

I scowl. "What is?"

She leans forward and says so quietly I almost do not hear her, "Everything we go through_Everything_. Has no one told you? Have you not realized it yourself?"

With these words, something clicks within my brain and my entire body tenses. This girl holds a hell of a lot of power. More, I think, than I have myself, and even Kamella. Perhaps, I consider, as I watch her every move closely and with a judging glance, she is incapable of handling everything she is capable of. "Tara, did you do this to the building?"

"You mean the bees?" She grins and nods. "I love bees. Amazing creatures."

"They are," I agree gently, "But I think it's too much for this town to take. They're just human, you know."

"And we're not?" she snaps, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

I raise an eyebrow. She's a bit touchy, I realize. Need to be gentler, I think. "We are. They're just... normal."

"We're not normal," she tells me as though I haven't already realized this. I knew from a very young age that something was off about me. When I was only six years of age I would wake with snakes in my bed at night and have strange dreams that would actually occur a week or so later. At first I thought it was all normal. By the time I was fifteen, however, I met someone who explained to me that I was special. Someone who worked in the stables at my father's estate, someone who showed me how I could manipulate certain things that no one else I knew could. Except for him; and that was Stanley. It was as though it were fate that he and I were brought together. I haven't told Jack any of this; sometimes I actually feel guilty for it. But in the end I always decide it's better for him in the end; why does he need to know every detail our mine and Stanley's relationship? Will it effect ours? No. Therefore, he's better off not knowing. Especially since I lied to him in the beginning, anyways. Best not to stir things up again.

"We're special," I tell her. "Special, but normal for the most part."

"I don't feel so special."

I raise a hand towards the walls of the _El __Fantasma_. "You don't feel special?" I ask her. "Look at what you've done, Tara. I could never even do this. This is amazing. It's just... too much for others to take."

"You could do it," she tells me excitedly. "Want to learn?"

I know I shouldn't. I know I should tell her to make them go away, I should find out why we're both here, and what she has that's so important. I should ask what's been going on since the moment I stepped foot on this port. But something is burning within me, a desire to learn more, to understand. To have such a power that no one else has. Strange, because for a very long time, all I wanted to do was to rid myself of this curse.

Tara takes me by the hands, her touch so warm and sending a bolt of energy through me. "You're bleeding," she says, glancing at the stained gauze covering my palm. "What did you do?"

"I punched a wall," I say before I even think. "It was a long time ago. I'm scarring."

She nods. "It hurts. I didn't get my first scars until this year. Did you spark too?"

"Yes," I reply.

Her hands squeeze mine. "Are you ready?" she asks, and pulls a lily peddle out of her bodice. "Hold this," she instructs. "And breathe. Don't forget to breathe. And think. Think really hard."

But all I do can is think about how I must get the bees to disappear. How I have so many questions that need to be answered. About the panic on the streets. I close my eyes, and a moment later when I open them again, the bees are gone. Even the dead ones on the floor have all but vanished.

Tara claps her hands and grins excitedly like a child. "They're gone," I say aloud, amazed.

"You can do so much more than that, too," she tells me. "Look!"

I feel so strange. Dizzy, and light. My head hurts. My fingertips burn. I look down at my hands, curious as to why they feel this way. The lily petal in my palm, however, is not a lily, nor even a flower any longer. It is a bird; a sparrow, perched with it's small feet and dark feathers. "Oh my God!" I yell, tossing my hands in the air. The bird transforms into bright red flames right before my eyes, rising into the air. They go out, however, a moment later, as though I had thrown a bucket of water over them. Or as though they were never there at all. "Did I kill it?" I demand in worry.

She laughs. "No, you didn't kill it."

I try to breathe. "I didn't know I could do that."

Footsteps sound from behind me. "I didn't either." I turn around at the sound of Kamella's voice. "I see you're feeling better," she snaps.

"Somewhat," I reply honestly. "Did you know we could do that?"

She shakes her head, light brown curls tumbling over her thin shoulders. "No, I didn't. Glad the bees are gone, though. They give me the creeps."

Tara laughs. "They're more peaceful than we give them credit for."

Kamella scoffs loudly. "Tell that to the pirate out there who was stung multiple times."

Tara's jaw tenses. "He shouldn't have tried to enter. He wasn't who was meant to come inside."

"He was trying to help her," Kamella jabs a finger at me, "Because she's ill and should be in bed."

But the young woman is hearing none of this. "He was not meant to be in here."

"Kamella," I say, touching her arm. "Back off, all right? I'm fine. The bees are gone. Everyone is fine."

She is staring at me in shock. "What's wrong with your eyes?"

I raise a hand to my face. "What do you mean?" I ask, feeling for the orbs, for eyelashes. All there, as far as I can tell. I search around for a mirror, and find one hanging on the wall directly parallel from the stairs. I gaze at my reflection. "Holy shit," I whisper to myself, hardly believing what I see staring back at me. My eyes are no longer a hazel shade surrounding a small pupil. They're black. All black. I feel my chest convulse; something isn't right.

"Breathe," Tara tells me, "It's all normal. You just get sort of a high, is all."

"You call that normal?" Kamella snaps, scrambling for her next words. "She looks like a bloody… witch or something!"

Tara rolls her eyes. "She's fine. Jesus, I can see why the gypsies are not very found of you."

I laugh, I can't stop myself. "Your words, not mine."

"Oh shut it," Kamella growls. "I can't see why they would be very found of you, _Andie__ Bryant_. Taking a year off of your duties to lounge in England, shagging a pirate… what makes you so bloody special, anyhow? All I see out of you is a potential mental-patient who's going to get everyone around her killed!"

My eyes narrow at her. "Where do you get your details, dearie? I may be crazy, but I'm far from mentally ill. At least I can keep my hands to myself and don't feel the need to jump the bones of every man who makes eye contact with me." I can feel my hands, sweaty and shaky, balling into fists and ready to strike.

"This should be interesting," Tara murmurs in a low voice, a sneaky, snake-like smile lifting her pale lips.

Kamella does not seem to hear her. "Will you get off it, already? I kissed the infamous Jack Sparrow, big-fucking-deal. I just wanted to see if the rumors were true, anyway. And yes, they were proven to be wrong. That man's kiss does _not_ make every female weak in the knees!"

Someone snorts from behind me. "I beg your pardon!" I turn to see the man of the hour, Jack Sparrow, standing at the end of the hall. "I resent that terribly, you know!"

Tara stands from the seat she had just taken. "This is the pirate that is making everyone so incredibly nervous?" she asks. "Kind of short to be scaring everyone so much, are you not?"

He frowns. "I didn't just walk in on a 'let's roast Captain Jack Sparrow' seminar, did I?"

I turn my attention back to Kamella. "Kamella was just filling me in on how much of a failure I am. So no, I think we're all being roasted in here."

She smiles, but not sincerely. The sarcasm is nearly dripping down between her plump lips. "Not a failure. A potential failure. If you would have just left with me in the beginning like Chester and I told you to…"

"No, no, that would have been a bad idea. Fate interfered as it should have," Tara interrupts. "The three of you were supposed to meet here, as you did. It's a good thing I found you."

"Three?" Jack points to himself stupidly. "Including me, because I'm-"

She smiles. "Part of the prophecy."

Kamella and I, for once, are on the same page. "Prophecy?" we question in unison. I take a step away from them both, almost colliding with Jack, who instinctively moved closer. I sidestep him, jumping so we do not touch. I'm a bit touchy after the entire, throwing birds and fire, incident.

"The gypsies said it was supposed to end this way."

I swallow. "End? You mean, _end_? A deadly end, because I'm like a cat, you know. Seven lives and all that. And I'm only on life… well, I think I lost count after ten…"

"Every ending in the door to a new beginning," Tara explains. "Death isn't always a bad thing."

Jack speaks up now. "Who gave you that presumption?" he demands. He comes to stand in front of me, blocking me from whatever he assumes could be coming. I swear, the man thinks he's invincible.

She laughs. "Relax, pirate. It's not your lover's time." We both out a breath I don't think either of us knew we were holding. "It might not be any of our times. Kamella, however, is to be tested. By the Elders. They are not impressed by her actions. They want to have a word with you," she explains, her eyes on Kamella. "Could be just a warning, don't look at me like that."

"Tested?" Kamella demands.

"Who are the Elders?" Jack whispers to me.

"Explanations later," I reply. "I promise."

"I do not know ay details," she explains. "I'm simply just a messenger."

I raise a dark eyebrow. "I thought you were one of us?" I ask.

She smiles. "I am. Your time will come."

"For what?" Jack snapped to it before I do.

"To serve," she explains with really no explanation.

"Is that what they want from me? To serve?" Kamella asks, her eyes darting to me, begging for my help. What does she want me to do? She knows I can't interfere with the Elders, or their messengers. They are too incredibly important to what we do.

Tara shakes her head. "You're being tested," she explains. "We all are. But today is your judgment day. Come, come, they've already waited long enough."

"Andie," Kamella whispers to me. "You don't think they're going to…"

I shake my head. I really don't know; I follow orders from the Elders, do what they tell me to do. I've never been warned or had any issues with them. Except in the beginning, when Chester was first sent with a warning. After that, he was meant to stay by my side, watching my every move to be sure I was behaving.

"It was an accident," she hissed at me.

I freeze. "What was an accident?"

She swallows thickly. "My last charge?" she says, "I killed him."

_"__Somewhere weakness is our strength  
__And I__'__ll die searching for it  
__I can__'__t let myself regret such selfishness  
__My pain and all the trouble caused  
__No matter how long  
__I believe that there__'__s hope  
__Buried beneath it all and  
__Hiding beneath it all and  
__Growing beneath it all and...__"  
_**Let the Flames Begin- ****Paramore**

* * *

Thanks to all of the wonderful reviews I received on the last chapter. You all are wonderful, and I'm so glad everyone is still keeping up with this story and really enjoying it. Not sure how many chapters are going to be left, but I'm only planning on taking this segment a little while farther, because I plan on extending the Andie and Jack saga to a third segment. What do you all think of that? 

I hope nothing in this chapter disspeared. I was having trouble uploading it, and the header vanishing. So frustrating.

Thanks to these users for reviewing: **SparrowsVixen****, Sands, ****alonefreehearted****, Morgan, ****Lexxxiii****VooDooJayneSmith****, angelwingz21, ****jjrose****, Captain ****Uschi****Iluvenis****, GothicSoul15, Bonny-pyrate-lass, Dineburycass.**


	36. Flame Thrower

**Chapter Thirty Six**

**"If you are patient in one moment of anger, you will escape a hundred days of sorrow."  
-Chinese Proverb**

It's hard for me to bite my tongue. It always has been. And believe me, I know there can be accidents. I of all people know this. But Kamella, killing her last charge? Why didn't she fill me in sooner? She could have dragged me into her dangerous situation along with her sorry ass.

"Killed your charge? How in the bloody hell did you do that?" I demand.

Her brow is beginning to sweat, she's so nervous. Never, in all of our time together, have I seen this woman so worried. She's always so nonchalant. "He jumped at me, out of nowhere. I shot him. I didn't mean to, I swear it."

"Why would he jump at ye, out of nowhere?" Jack asks with one raised brow. He does not believe her story, I can tell. I'm not sure whether to believe her or not. "Seems unlikely."

"Coming from a pirate who tells tales about escaping with sea turtles strapped to his feet," a deep, sultry voice says from behind us. I see Will as I turn to regard the visitor, his wife at his side. Rodney stands behind them, staring strangely at Kamella. I really wonder if he ever cared for her at all.

"Yer just jealous, mate," Jack tells him.

"I almost attacked his daughter on accident," Kamella snaps, her voice annoyed that all attention is not on her, as usual. She's glaring at Jack.

I scoff at her. "I'm getting tired of asking questions. Sounds to me like you were being frantic and careless. Therefore, I don't feel sorry for you."

Her eyes go wide and angry. "You're patronizing me for being careless? Careless is your bleedin' middle name!"

"Actually," I correct her, "It's Penelope, and I care a lot."

Jack grins at me. "Yer middle name is Penelope? You really are a priss, deep down inside, aren't ye, love?"

I try to brush his comment off. "I am _not_ a priss."

He gives me a sideward glance. "Whatever ye say, Ms. Prissy."

"You really want to sleep alone tonight, don't you?" I snap at him. Rodney clears his throat from the corner but says nothing.

Kamella nearly has a fit. "The Elders are going to _kill_ me, for Christ's sake! Can't the two of you pay attention to _me_ for just a moment!"

Tara raises her small hand. "It may just be a warning. Go through some other training, maybe. I'm not positive what will happen to you. Unless," she says, hesitating for a moment. "This has happened before."

I raise an eyebrow. "Just how many have your charges have you killed, Mel?"

She looks as though she wants to bash my head in. "Just… two."

"Two?" I nearly yell back at her. "How do you _accidently_ kill two people?"

She looks uncomfortable. "All right, so the first wasn't an accident," she explains. "But it was self defense."

"Self defense?" I repeat. "We're _trained_ for this, Kamella. We were born for it. You can't use that as an excuse in our position."

Jack whistles a long, slow note. "Someone's not goin' to be too happy with ye, love. I don't know much, but I can tell you that."

She hollers like a banshee, throwing herself at him, but I catch her before she even lays a finger on the pirate. "You've already gotten your warning, Mel. I can't help you. Sounds to me as though you've already made too many mistakes."

"You always were a bitch," she growls at me.

I think about this for a moment. "Yes, I suppose I have been. But at least I don't kill people. Oh, and the Elders still like me more than you, so two points for me. I win."

She comes at me again, but when I raise my hands to defend myself, once again flames are ignited from my palms, and I toss them at her through the air, but obviously this wasn't my intention. I didn't even know I could do such a thing! Kamella falls back, rolling out of the fire's direction and slides on the floor against the corner of the wall. She hits the baseboard with a dull _crack_.

"Uh, Andie…" Jack starts, completely shocked.

I look at my palms, cringing. "Sorry! It was an accident."

Jack's looking at me strangely, ignoring Kamella's form pulling herself up across the room. "Darling, I've always known ye weren't exactly normal, but I didn't realize ye might be throwing fire at any random time!"

"Believe me," I tell him. "Neither did I."

The group in the corner is gaping at me, to the point where it is almost comical. They don't know what to say, can't even move. Elizabeth, with her naïve eyes, looks surprised most of all. Rodney seems somewhat impressed. Will has the most humorous expression of all; he just doesn't know what to think about me, at this point.

Tara laughs. "This is so much fun."

I look at her strangely. "Fun? I could have killed her!"

She shrugs. "You just have to learn how to control it." She glances over, seeing Kamella's running form towards me, and with a simple lift of her palms, claps them together, and my former partner is gone. Vanished.

I blink. "Did that really just happen?"

Jack grabs a hold of my sleeve. "Love, maybe we should…"

Tara laughs once more. "It's all right. I can't normally do that; only when I'm sending the Elders a _breathing_ package."

Elizabeth looks about ready to panic. "Like a bloody _person_?"

Giggling is her only response for a moment. "Yes. Don't be afraid."

"I think we're more shocked than anything," Will explains to her.

"Shocked?" Jack repeats. "Andie, ye may just turn into a fire-breathin' dragon at any moment, and this lass, who we've been searching high and low for, was right beneath our noses this entire time, _and_ she's making people disappear. Just like that. Yer fuckin' right, I'm shocked. I'm… yer eyes."

My brow creases. "My eyes? You're my eyes?"

He shakes his head. "No. Yer eyes…" Jack reaches out, running his calloused fingertips gently, so gently, over my cheek bone, right below my eyes.

"What's wrong with her?" Rodney demands, stepping forward.

"Just an after effect," Tara explains. "No need to worry."

Suddenly, a conversation with Maxwell sparks in the back of my mind. "Tara, Maxwell told me you were not cursed."

"I have a different kind of curse," she explains. "I'm not as important as you. I'm just a trainer, a messenger. You're the brain and the arm. See the difference?"

I think about this. "A different kind of curse?"

She smiles. "My only power is my connection to the Earth. You're so much more important than that," Tara explains. Then, she turns to Jack. "When are we making way, captain?"

"Makin' way?

I turn to her. "You're going with us?"

Jack's head snaps back to me. "Yer goin' with me?"

I look back and forth between them for a moment, so confused. "I told you."

He snorts, but his eyes look different. "Not exactly."

"Do I have to spell it out for you?" I smile, leaning into him.

"With ye, that would make my life a hell of a lot easier."

Tara waves a hand at us. "Hi. Making leave soon?"

Suddenly, the two of us remember there are six people, not just two, in the room. Oops. "You're coming along?"

"It's my next assignment," she says, rocking back and forth on her feet. "Watching over the Infamous Andie Bryant."

I raise an eyebrow. "Isn't that what Maxwell is for?"

"He's supposed to watch the two of us, yes. I'm the one who is here to show you what you're really capable of. And to keep you from, well, doing anything _rash_."

"What, exactly, would be considered _rash_?" Jack questions her in a deep voice. It gives me chills.

"Leaving her duties for, well…"

He raises a dark, quirky eyebrow. "Piracy?"

She smiles this big, excited smile. "He's smart, Andie. Catches on quick. I like him."

"Not too much, I hope," Jack says, nodding towards me. "She's the jealous type."

I poke him in the side. Hard. "I am not."

He rubs his ribs with his hand, taking a step away from me. "Kamella would disagree."

I give him a knowing look. "When I catch you locking lips with another woman, I have reason to be angry, you know. It's not like…"

"She's gone and you can both start over?" Elizabeth suggests with a smile.

Rodney is already half way out the door. He seems uncomfortable and annoyed. I suppose I should watch myself with Jack around him, but I don't know how to act otherwise. It's just who I am; I'm blunt and I do what I want. Now, however, that I have made such good friends, I need to worry about someone else's feelings, beside my own.

"Back to the P_earl_?" Wills asks.

Jack nods. "Aye, Mr. Turner."

We begin following the couple out the door, Tara just behind us, but before we reach the door, Jack pulls me aside for a kiss. Just a soft, slow peck, but a toe-curling kiss none the less. "Yer the only one I want to be locking lips with. For a very, very long time. Savvy?"

Tara sighs. "They were right. The two of you _do_ have it bad. It's kind of sickening."

"Tara!" Maxwell is waiting for us outside the door. "There you are, dove. Where have you been?"

"Hiding," she says with a girlish smile.

He shakes his head. "You know we've discussed this. You need to stop hiding and waiting for the girls to find you. You know it holds up the missions."

She pouts. "I was enjoying the search party."

"I know you were, but you need to stop this. You know what you're here for. Hiding is not helping us. You just held up the _El __Fantasma_ mission."

She smiles at this, however. "But Andie already did away with the murderer."

"What?" is my reply. "I did?"

"That tiny blonde girl," she replies simply.

"Hilary?" I ask. "Hilary was the murderer?"

"Told you it wasn't special," Maxwell says to me. His eyes, as he speaks to me, like to wander. Jack isn't paying attention to him. I feel my stomach drop at his wanton gaze, and that grin… I almost wish Jack was paying attention in hopes he would make Maxwell stop. I actually feel my cheeks getting hot; I'm blushing. I, Andie Bryant, am _blushing_. I do not blush.

Maxwell chuckles, knowing he caused such pink to rise to my surface. "You all right, Andie?" he asks.

Jack and Rodney both glance back at me. "Your scars still hurting you?" Rodney asks.

"Yes," I reply quickly. "It's the scarring."

"Almost to the _Pearl_, love," Jack says in my ear.

Maxwell laughs. I hate him. I hate his eyes, and that laugh. I hate that he makes me curious, that he makes my stomach twist. Jack does that, and I liked it that way, with Jack the only one able to make me weak in the stomach, in the knees. Why is just a look from this man affecting me?

Suddenly, Rodney gets this curious look on his face. "What happened to Maisie, then?"

"She killed herself, you know that," is the explanation.

Rodney, walking slightly in front of me, stops his steps, and glances back at me, then back to Tara. "How do you know this?"

She just smiles, then pats him on the shoulder. "Great job, the two of you. You make a fantastic team."

Rodney looks so adorable in his confused state. "Hilary told us someone sent her to kill Andie."

_The __Ahoros_, I thought. I want to ask her what she knows about them, if they actually exist, but I don't think now is the time. I will save it for a later time. I just hope, by that time, it's not too late.

Tara giggles. "I was just testing her."

"Tara!" Maxwell reprimands. "I told you, that's not funny. No more of that."

"I didn't think it would be a problem with Andie," she explains. "Not with the things they told me about her. I was just having a bit of fun."

"I don't care," Maxwell tells her. "Never again, or I'm sending you back to…" he suddenly stops, whispering something in her ear. Tara is quiet for the entire trip back to the _Pearl_. I really wonder what he said to her.

I really shouldn't have any more women on this ship," Jack says to me, grabbing fresh gauze from the small table beside the bed. "Other pirates are goin' to hear about this and think I've gone soft."

I chuckle at this. "You've always been soft, deep down."

"Nope," he says instantly, almost cutting me off. He knew what my response would be; he knows I'm always teasing him, and him me. It's how we flirt. "Never."

"Never?"

He leans close, almost kissing me as he speaks. His lips brush mine, just barely, causing me to exhale gently. "Never."

"All right, then, captain," I say with a smile. "I believe you." But really, I don't.

He gives me this smoldering look. "Darling, ye know what happens when ye call me Captain anywhere near that bed."

"It's going to have to wait," I laugh, trying to swat him away as he leans in for a kiss. When I turn my face away, he nuzzles my neck, nibbling on the skin there. "Have to wrap up these wounds first."

He leans back on his heels, placing one last kiss on the tip of my nose. "These aren't even wounds," he concludes. "I swear, darling, I don't understand anythin' about ye anymore."

"Sure you do."

"No," he says with a shake of his beaded head, dabbing at the almost healed scar on my abdomen, "I thought I did. But things just keep…"

I place a chaste kiss on his lips. "I don't understand it, either."

"Just don't catch me on fire," he says, finishing up the dressings.

"I promise I won't," I tell him with a laugh. "I didn't realize I was capable of any of that."

"Does it scare you?" Jack asks me gently.

I consider this. Yes, yes it does. Really, it kind of terrifies me. "No, I'm not scared."

He glances up from his work, but only for a short moment. "I don't think ye'd admit if it did, love."

I don't say anything. We both know the truth, so why argue with him? After a moment of silence, I lay back on the bed, relaxing and closing my eyes as I concentrate on his fingertips brushing against my bare skin. It feels like forever since he's touched me like this, so tender and soft. I've missed this feeling while we were apart. Just experiencing the chemistry between us as though we could never be pulled apart. I like feeling this way.

When he's done cleaning me up and replacing my bandages, he lies down beside me, placing his head on my stomach and wrapping his arm around my waist. "Does this hurt ye?"

"No," I tell him, running my hands through his tangled, thick locks of hair. "If Tara knew this was all going to happen, if she knew where to find us, do you think she has something to do with the Ahoros? Do you think she knew about the pillage through Will and Elizabeth's home?"

Jack tenses. "Darling, I don't think it was Tara who was looking for ye in Port Royal. She's on your team, remember?"

"Trust no one," I say to him. "I know you agree, so don't argue. You don't even trust Will and Elizabeth, and they're your friends."

"The Turner's are not me friends," he denies. "They're sneaky. 'Specially 'Lizabeth. She's a rum burner, that one."

I try to sit up, and he moves away for me so I am enabled to. "I just think it's strange, that these people are looking for me." He shakes his head, this far away look in his eyes. I try to think about it; who would know where to look for me? Or, actually, that I was with Jack, therefore, where to look for said notorious pirate? Then, suddenly… "Jack, didn't you say you ran into my brother in Port Royal, right after I left?"

He nods, his brow creased in confusion. "Yes, but ye know Loyal wouldn't do such a thing."

I nod. "He wouldn't, but what if someone knew Loyal was looking for me? What if someone followed him?" I suggest knowingly.

He raises an eyebrow. "Andie, you think Anson is searching for you?" I just look at him, and without a word, he gets up from the bed and shoots out the door. I follow in toe, pulling my shirt down as I go. Still barefoot, I race up the stairs after him, curious as to what he's doing. "Gents!" he yells to the crew. "I want all eyes open. We may be being followed. Anything suspicious, any ships within sight, I want reported to me _immediately._ Savvy? Failure to do so will result in termination."

"Captain!"

I turn to see Will, balancing himself up on the mast, his arm stretched out and finger extended outward towards the land we had just left an hour or so ago. Sure enough, there is a ship in sight, not too close to be necessarily suspicious, but close enough to be paranoid. I grab the looking glass from Jack's belt, peering through the eye piece with a quick-beating pulse.

"It's a ship from my father's fleet," I say aloud. "It's Loyal."

"Your brother?" Elizabeth questions me.

I nod, glancing at Jack. "Anson cannot be far behind, then."

Jack looks to his crew. "Every last one of ye to yer stations!"

_"Left alone with only reflections of the memory  
To face the ugly girl  
That's smothering me  
Sitting closer than my pain  
He knew each tear before it came  
Soon he will perforate the fabric of the peaceful by and by."  
**"Sorrow" -Flyleaf**_

* * *

I got really into this chapter, for some reason. It was a joy to write. Saw Pirates 3 again yesterday, and liked it so much better the second time around. Such a great trilogy. I love Will and Elizabeth's characters, and I wish I would have concentrated on them more on past chapters, and even now. It's just there are so many characters I want to concentrate on already. I want to start a new story soon, perhaps I will include them, and set it after At World's End and concentrate on them more. Maybe.

Hope everyone enjoyed this chapter as much as I did. Reviews are wonderful.

Thanks to these users who reviewed the last chapter: **HamsterBall****, Sands, Smithy, ****JJRose****, Remy La Fay, ****VooDooJayneSmith****SparrowsVixen****alonefreehearted****, Bonny-****Pyrate****-Lass, Captain ****Uschi****Iluvenis****XJammi-JessX****snowdropsinwinter****, hopelessly-addicted, GothicSoul15.**


	37. A Mad Man

"Are we preparing for attack?" Elizabeth nearly gapes at Jack.

"We can't attack my brother," I tell him, following him as he rushes off towards the helm of the _Black Pearl._ "We don't even know if Anson is following him."

Jack's rubbing the helm as though he is nervous. I would never suggest them to him, however. "We're not going to attack yet. I'm bein' cautious."

"Yet?" I demand. "Jack, we're not firing at Loyal!"

"We're just going to get him off our track," he explains to me, and begins barking out orders to his crew. I can almost hear him saying, 'Full speed ahead!'

"So we're running away?" Elizabeth suggests. Well, I wasn't going to see it out loud, but…

"Of course we're runnin' away," Jack tells her. "We don't know what could be following him."

My body is quickly beginning to ache. The tingling begins at my fingertips and flows like water to my head. I sit down on the step next to his feet, glaring at my hands. At least Maxwell's remedy did the trick. I can already feel it; my wounds are burning, my vision is blurring. I feel slightly drunk. My fingertips are beginning to fade to a tint of a dull jade green…

"Andie?" Elizabeth kneels down beside me.

"Love?" Jack says, looking down.

"They're healing," I tell him. "I'm all right, just… need to sit down."

"Rodney!" Jack roars. I cringe because he almost yells in my ear.

A moment later comes the response, followed by footsteps as Rodney runs up the stairs to the helm. "Captain?"

"Take the wheel, boy," he instructs as he kneels down, picking me up with strong hands. Easily, but gently, he drapes me over his shoulder. "I want this ship far enough away from that one as possible."

I can't see Rodney, but I hear him. I can't see anything because I feel too drowsy and sore to open my eyes. "Aye, captain. Is she all right?" the first mate asks.

"I think so," Jack explains. "But then again, what do I know about what's goin' on with her right now."

I can't remember the walk back to the captain's quarters, but I feel Jack lie me down upon his bed. "Here's a glass of water," he informs as he pulls the quilts over my legs. "I want you to rest, darling. Too much excitement for ye. Rodney has the helm for now, don't ye worry yerself."

"What if he's following?" I mumble. I can't even find the strength to make myself comfortable on the mattress.

"_Why_ would he be following is a more suiting question, I think. And all I can rationalize is he's a mad man. Only confirming my earlier beliefs, of course," the pirate says with a lift of his brow.

I just want him to hold me. To sleep in the safe, comfort of his arms. Saying this aloud, however, is a different story. I don't want him to know how much I want to depend of him; especially after all that as happened. "He's obsessed," I tell him, able to move my hand enough just to touch my fingertips to his, before closing my eyes again.

"I won't allow him within fifty feet of ye," Jack says, playing with the fingertips I inched closer to his. He takes them within his palm, kissing them sweetly. "Ye think ye could catch his ship on fire or somethin'?"

I'm not sure where it came from, but I laugh. "No. I don't even know how I did it the first time. Tara…"

He moves the hair away from my face, "Good idea, love. Tara. Stay here," he tells me sternly, kissing my forehead, "And I mean it this time. I'm going to go speak with the imp."

"Too tired to move," I say, already half asleep.

Jack whispers something in my ear, but I'm already asleep. I'm asleep, and once more I dream. I dream and I ache and I see Stanley standing before me in a long, dark hallway once more.

"Why are you afraid to tell Jack about us?" Stanley asks me. The wound on his head has dripped down his neck and stained the color of his solid white shirt. Stanley always hated wrinkles; he hated looking unclean. He keeps moving his shoulder and adjusting his collar, so I know it's really bothering him now.

I shake my head at him. "I'm not afraid of anything."

"They're coming, princess," he says. "Stop acting invincible. We both know your not."

"No one is invincible," I explain, repeating the words I told Jack a day earlier.

He laughs, pointing to his head. "I know."

On the table down the hall, I see a glass of lilies. I take a few steps forward, approaching them. I take one into my hand, snap off the stem, and close my eyes. I think, I breathe, and I concentrate, just as Tara told me. When I open my eyes, I turn to glance at Stanley. He's looking at me strangely, the crimson stain still on his white shirt.

"Why aren't you working?" I say to the lily.

Stanley laughs at me. "What are you doing, Andie?"

I hold the flower tighter, close my eyes, and think about Stanley's head being smooth, being as it was. I think of his shirt, with no wrinkles as always, and a solid crisp white. When I open my eyes again, both the stain and the wound are gone. I smile bigger than I think I've smiled in a long time.

"Why are you smiling at me like that?" he asks.

I turn up the collar of his shirt. "Look."

He raises an eyebrow, his jaw going slack. "You did that? Just now? With that?" he points to the palm of my hand.

When I open my fingers, the lily has turned into ash. I let it fall to the floor like forgotten dust. "Yes, I did. Tara taught me. I found her."

He smiles. "I know. She made it rather easy this time, I suppose. Be gentle with her, princess. She has some issues."

I nod. "I've realized this. When did you work with Tara?"

"I haven't," he says. "But I've spoken to her. She does what you're doing now."

"What am I doing now?" I ask with a raised brow.

"Dream walking," he explains. "We have a connection. Therefore, when you fall asleep, I can take you here. Show you things. Tara, however, is a messenger. She can do it with whomever and whenever she needs to."

This girl has a lot of power, I know. Apparently there is a lot I can learn from her. "What about the nightmares I've been having?"

"You can get lost," my friend explains. "You can fall into a pleasant place, such as this one, or you can fall into an incubus. Be careful when you arrive there; they are tricky. Dangerous, they are."

I nod, understanding. "Tell me about Maxwell."

He raises his brow. "Who?"

"Maxwell. Took Chester's place. He's supposed to watch over Tara and I?" he does not look phased by this, however. "He has this… I don't know, Stan, he just makes my stomach…"

"You're blushing, princess," he says with a laugh, his eyes wide. He takes a step forward and cups my cheek with his cool palm. His skin is so white, so pale. Almost blue, almost translucent.

I smack his hand away. "I am not blushing," I deny.

Stanley just laughs, however. "Perhaps the two of you have a connection."

I shake my head at him, my long, black hair falling down my shoulders, straight as a board. "No. He's infuriating. And Jack…"

He smiles. "You love Jack, any fool can see that, Andie. A connection with another man doesn't have to mean anything, you know. You are your own woman and you obviously know who and what you want. You have free will, that's more than just chemistry. Just be careful about the wanting part."

"But he gives me this look, and it's like…"

"You can't control yourself?"

I swallow thickly, nodding. When he gave me that look earlier, and even the day before, when Rodney pulled me away from him, I wasn't thinking straight. It was like he was pulling me to him, like I was doing what felt right and I didn't have to question myself one bit. And this worries me; it's not as though I can speak to Jack about it. "Now you know have every male feels around you," Stanley says with a laugh. "The pull of the curse."

"Maxwell isn't cursed."

He shrugs. "Doesn't mean something else there isn't going on."

I'm sleeping, I know. But I can hear something. Something with a melody. I look to Stanley with strange eyes, and my body is beginning to feel fuzzy. I'm slowly being roused from sleep, I realize. "Is Loyal still looking for me?" I ask quickly.

"No, he's going an opposite direction. He's not going to lead them to you. He's straying them away now that he knows they're following."

"Who?"

Ahoros. 

I awaken to find myself lying in Jack's bed, my hair down and a clean, mild scent in my nose. The melody has not stopped, and as I look about the room, I realize what it has been all along. Tara, standing on the other side of the bed, is placing flowers on all the tables, singing gently to herself. Or to the both of us, I cannot tell.

"_Some men have died, and some are alive, and others sail on the sea…"_ she sings.

I try and sit up in the bed. My head no longer hurts, and my body feels regenerated. I bring my fingers up from the covers so I can get a good look at them. They're normal color. I flex them as I look to Tara. "What are you doing with those?" I point to the flowers.

She smiles the sweetest smile. "They're pretty. I thought you would enjoy them."

"I do," I say. "They're beautiful. But Jack, however…"

And then, as though I had been calling him, the captain of the _Black Pearl_, swings open to door to his cabin. His nose scrunches up instantly. "It smells like a bloody garden party in here," he says.

I laugh. "I saw that coming."

Tara continues to sing, and Jack stares at her strangely for a moment before shaking his head and waltzing over to the bed. "We're out of their sight," Jack says to me, lifting my chin with one hand. "Ye have got the color back to yer cheeks. Good, love."

Tara sings, smiling this big smile at me before closing the door behind her. 

"How long have I been asleep?" I ask him.

He takes a seat beside me. "Two days."

I nearly choke on the glass of water he hands me from the small table beside the bed. "Two days!"

Jack laughs, touching the ends of my hair with his fingertips. "Maxwell and Tara told me it was normal. Yer body was trying to recuperate and get back to it's normal state. So I let ye sleep. Nearly killed me though," he explains with a grin and leans in for a kiss.

"What did Tara say?"

"Hmm?"

"Didn't you tell me you we're going to talk with Tara? She has a lot of power, and she…"

Jack touches my hair. "She got in touch with Loyal," he explains. "Don't ask me how. It was an unmoral sense of weirdness and I do not wish to speak of it."

I'll ask her myself, later on. "All right," I say with a laugh as he shivers with the memory. I take his face between my hands. "Out of their sight?" I say between kisses. "So that means…"

He grins at me. "We have some free time."

"Oh," I say happily, helping him remove his shirt. I touch his flat stomach with my fingers. "You're the captain, captain. Whatever you say goes."

I kisses me again. "And don't ye forget it, love." He wraps me up in his arms, pressing his palms against the small of my back. I can't stop kissing him; it feels like I've gone weeks without seeing him again. After a moment he pulls away, attempting to remove the quilts from between us, but there is this huge grin on his handsome pirate face. "Ye seem excited for being asleep for forty-eight hours, love. I'd expect ye to be… still sleepy?"

"I've had enough sleep," I tell him, pulling him down to the bed with me. "I feel so energized."

"Hmm," Jack says with a lift of his eyebrow. "That sounds promising."

And then, as Jack's palms slide up my stomach, rough palms against soft, pale skin, there's a loud knock on the cabin door. We ignore it at first, too busy caressing and laughing and enjoying our time together while we can, but the knocking continues to persist, before the person on the other side just annoyed and swings the door open.

It's Maxwell. "Oh, that's disgusting," he says to us, covering his eyes even though I'm still clothed and covered by the sheet, and Jack is still wearing his breeches. "I don't want to know what the two of you do between behind this door."

"How about behind other doors on the ship?" I ask him with an interested, cocked eyebrow.

He flinches and removes his hand from the doorframe. "Feeling better?"

I nod, still feeling incredibly uncomfortable. Jack, however, seems very comfortable as he lies back on the back, folding his arms back behind his head. He's not ashamed one bit. "Much better," I reply.

"Good," Maxwell replies with this big, evil smile on his face. "It's time to begin your training, then."

"I'm not so sure if I'm sure of anything anymore  
Well this is the last night that you'll be keeping secrets from me  
Just hit the lights before you leave  
You know, the million things you had to say  
Sorry just, just might have found its way in there  
Somehow, someway  
But don't worry, sweetie, cause I already know."  
**The Blue Channel- Taking Back Sunday**

**

* * *

**

Lots of things to think about.

Happy Independence Day!

501 reviews, guys, that's amazing! I can't thank you enough, however, thanks to the reviewers from the last chapter, anyway:


	38. Remember to Breathe

-1_**Note: This chapter is why this story is rated M. There is explicit material towards the middle and end of the chapter. Therefore, if you want to skip over those parts, or this chapter, I will not send the big dogs after you.**_

Chapter Thirty-Eight

"_**This is the very worst wickedness, that we refuse to acknowledge the passionate evil that is in us. This makes us secret and rotten."  
-D.H. Lawrence**_

For a week now, Maxwell has been working me from the moment the bells ring in the morning, if not earlier, until supper every night. And this, mind you, is on a good day. Sometimes he works me until I already find Jack asleep in his bed, alone, his lips and mustache pulled down into a troubled frown. Honestly, I think there's more to it than just preparing for the future. Maxwell enjoys getting a rise out of me. And the part that bothers me most? I enjoy him getting a rise out of me too.

Last night I accidentally woke Jack as I crawled into bed beside him. He inhaled, loudly, his dark eyes cracking open to stare at me. "Andie," he said groggily with sleep, "Love, this needs to stop."

"I'm sorry I woke you," I replied, kissing the tip of his nose and curling in close so I could feel the beat of his heart. I felt guilty. Guilty I've been spending so much time with Maxwell, and guilty that I could not tell him how my new boss was effecting me this way. I hate Maxwell; his personality is too sarcastic, sometimes downright cruel, and his cockiness is more than annoying. I don't know what it is that keeps compelling me towards him.

Jack shook his head at me. "I don't care that ye woke me. Yer exhausted. Ye can't keep training like this."

And I am, too. Can barely move sometimes, to get to the captains quarters at night. Elizabeth had to help me the other night, her arm around my waist, but I made her swear not to tell Jack or even Will, her husband. My legs were just so sore; for a little while, I thought I even tore a muscle. I think Jack is even getting paranoid. About Maxwell, that is. I found him glaring in his direction one morning after Maxwell made a lewd comment at me and I cursed him for grabbing a hold of my backside during our sparring. "Just distracting my opponent," he had explained with that cocky grin.

"I'm not exhausted," I lied horribly. "I just haven't trained in such a long time. I'm-"

"Lying," he said flatly. "Ye have no excitement to yer voice any more, no skip to yer step. I can't even kiss you, can't even-"

I try and move away as his hand slides between my thighs, the muscles there sore and bruised. I didn't want him to know, but he heard me hiss as I jumped back. Without a word, he threw the covers back, his eyes not missing a thing, not even in the dark. The moonlight provided enough light for him to see everything he needed to. My thighs were covered in black and blue marks, from where I've tripped and fallen over tables, crates and other things on the ship while sword fighting or doing other exercises with Maxwell. It's "in order to prepare," he explained. "Tara senses something important is coming."

"Jack," I said, touching his jaw. It hardened under my fingertips with anger, his eyes loosing their amber warmth. "I haven't been careful enough."

"It's too much," Jack growled, trying to get up from the bed. "I'm goin' to put an end to this right now."

He didn't, though. I called his name, and even though he tried to ignore me, I grabbed him anyway, placing my lips over his, whispering everything was okay. I even tried to play the guilt game, telling him he knew it had to be this way, I couldn't run away anymore, as he said. I think he felt bad, then, because those words came from his own mouth, and allowed me to kiss him, and even kissed me back. Something _is_ coming, and all though I don't know what, I can feel it, physically. And I want to be ready. I _need_ to be ready.

Jack and I made love for the first time in a while between those sheets, his hands on my hips and my throat pale and exposed like an eloquent swan. I was so tired, I could barely move, but he was moaning and sighing and grabbing, and the sound was so great in my ears that I found myself unable to stop. It felt amazing, it did, as I hovered above him and his rough palms were running over the globes of my breasts and the velvet folds between my legs. It did not take long to get Jack over the edge, but he was being difficult. He was holding himself back for me, and so my plans to please him and sleep, did not fall through. I was so tired and not concentrated enough, therefore it took another ten or twenty minutes for me to even reach the point he was trying to keep himself from. My hips moved faster, his teeth dug into my neck…

And I cried. I _cried_. It took this for me even to feel the way he did last night, to even reach my peak and for my body to snap and release. At first, he did not seem worried. He actually seemed proud, thinking that he had me working until that point, that point where I'm always afraid it's too much and I beg him to stop. He's only stopped once, I remember, but it wasn't for long before he picked up his kissing and swift pace again. Jack isn't one to leave a woman unhappy when it comes to sex. Not in my experience, anyhow.

But this time was different, and after a minute or so passed, the captain of the great _Black Pearl_ knew this. "Andie?" he asked, rubbing his palm over the smooth, tattooed skin of my back. I had turned on my side, away from him, afraid for him to see my face. I couldn't stop crying once I started. "Tell me what's wrong, love. Did I hurt ye?"

I couldn't respond. I don't know what was wrong. I think I felt guilty, and ashamed, and confused. And now Tara thinks something is coming, and the Ahoros, and Loyal, and Anson… I'm not only physically drained, I'm mentally drained as well.

"I'm sorry," he whispered desperately in my ear, "I didn't mean to hurt ye. Don't cry, love." He should know better; I never cry when I'm hurt. Never. "I should have been gentler, yer so bruised."

He just laid there with me, whispering things in my ear, until I fell asleep. I never got to explain to him, but then again, I wouldn't have known what to say. This morning when I awoke to find him dressed and placing a tray of breakfast on the table beside his bed, he asked if I was all right.

"I'm sorry, Jack," I said. "I don't know what was wrong with me."

"I hurt ye," he said, his eyes shifting away from me, so sure of himself.

I caught his hand in mine, bringing it to my lips. "You didn't hurt me." His eyes met mine then. He was confused. I kissed him, and we left it at that. We haven't spoke of it since, and we're back to teasing each other and being normal. Jack had Rodney lock Maxwell in his room for a good three hours after he normally appeared on deck, so I even got to sleep in. Jaden says the captain spoils me, but I just think he's jealous.

And now I sit at the mammoth table in the galley, Maxwell and Tara standing before me. "I know what's going on here," Tara tells my new boss. "I can smell it on you. You're attracted to her."

"Excuse me?" Maxwell snorts. "That's complete-"

I laugh. "You're a horrible liar." I know Maxwell is attracted to me. It's enough by his roaming eyes, and occasionally while we're training, hands, let alone his provocative talk. That gives it away right there.

"And you," Tara turns towards me. "You're not any better, you know."

My brow creases. "What did I do?"

"First of all, you're not yourself.. The gypsies are worried about you."

I don't understand, all though, last night was a perfect example of how strange I am acting indeed. Anymore than that, though, I am at a loss. "Everyone is always worried about me for no good reason," I wave off.

Tara rolls her eyes. "No training for the day," she tells Maxwell. "She needs a day off. And so do you."

Maxwell tries to argue with her, but I think, deep down, he knows Tara is right, and so he doesn't fight much with her. His arguments are usually just for show, anyway.

Once Maxwell leaves, Tara takes a step towards me, and takes a seat at the table. "Give me your palms," she instructs gently.

I do as I'm told. "You're not a palm reader, are you?" I ask.

She smiles at me. "Bad experience?"

"A couple," I reply. "When I was a little girl, my brother and I were in town and he thought it would be fun to get our palms read. Our father would have been livid if he knew we stopped to do such a thing, but my brother never cared. He always took chances, that's what I've always admired about him."

Tara takes my small hand between the two of hers. "And the woman saw bad things?" she questions as she closes her eyes.

"Something like that," I say, watching her face, closely, hoping her peaceful expression does not go salty.

After a moment, she opens her eyes, peering down into my open palm. "I see a few things. First, you're still not at peace about leaving your family. Your mother is no longer with you, correct?"

I am so amazed at what she is doing, I just nod dumbly. "No, she passed when I was a little girl."

"Giving birth to what would have been a baby sister," Tara replies. She strokes the top of my hand as though I am a beloved pet. I only feel slightly uncomfortable, however, because I am too busy listening intently on what she is saying to really worry about personal physical boundaries being broken. "Stanley's death is what's really big on your mind. And Jack; you don't think he loves you like you love him."

I can just feel my hazel eyes about ready to pop out from my face. "How do you know all of this?"

She grins that girlish smile. "Practice."

"Right," I sigh.

"Jack has ways of showing what's going on through his head. That's the issue with other people understanding them; he doesn't share his emotions out loud like most of us do. It's something you and he have in common, am I right?"

I shrug. "I guess so."

"Why are you so afraid of your former fiancé, Andie?" she asks suddenly.

I nearly choke on the sip of water I had just taken from the glass sitting before me on the table top. "I'm not afraid of Anson," I deny.

"You are," she says, her eyes gazing at me intently. "Just no one knows why."

I take a breath. "I don't have a reason, really. He just makes me feel uncomfortable."

"Like he's capable of something horrid?"

"Yes," I say with a nod.

"I think you're right about him, Andie. I informed your brother he was following and had him stray Anson's ship away. There's a protection spell over the _Black Pearl_ right now, but it will not last long. Hopefully he will be good and far away by then."

"Protection spell?" I reply. "Nevermind, I don't want to know. All of that stuff gives me the heebie jeebies." I rise from my chair and make my way towards the door.

"Don't be embarrassed about being attracted to Maxwell, Andie," Tara suddenly bursts out. "All of the ladies have a reason or another to chase after him."

I turn on my heel. "I'm not chasing after Maxwell," I snap at her.

She laughs. "You don't need to."

I can feel my temper rising, and knowing I am supposed to be gentle with her, I rush up the stairs and make it out into the sun on the deck of the ship. I can see Jack at the helm and instead of avoiding him as I might have in the past, I walk right over to him. "You asked Tara to do a protection spell?" I ask.

He raises an eyebrow. "What are ye talkin' about, love?"

"Tara said she put a protection spell over the ship."

But Jack shakes his head. "She told me there was no such thing."

Tara lied to me? But for what reason? Either she is up to something, perhaps with Maxwell, or she just told me this to make me feel better about the situation. I will be cautious, but considering I like to have just a little tiny bit of faith in people, I will go with the second option. Doesn't mean I can't spy on her, though. I enjoy it, anyway; it's a rush of adrenaline.

"Hey," Jack says suddenly, reaching out and touching my arm with warm, sun kissed fingers. "What's goin' through yer head?"

"Nothing," I tell him with a reassuring smile.

His brows narrow. "Hate it when ye lie to me."

I lean up on my toes and give his lips a little peck. "I'm not lying, I'm just trying to figure some things out."

"Ye know, darling," Jack says, "It would be nice if ye would join me for dinner in the captain's quarters tonight. Rum will certainly be involved."

I smile at him, all teeth and everything. "I would be delighted, sir."

He winks at me. "Good."

I'm laughing as I walk away from him, tracking in my head all of Jack's hiding spots for his finest rum. I could wait until tonight, but I'm craving for a bottle this very second. _Let's see… In the cabinet in his quarters, but I didn't see any while getting out a clean pair of slacks this morning. There's the galley, but it's the same as the crew drinks and is not as effective or aged. And then, there's the cargo room, above the gun powder, hidden in a crate that's covered with a red sheet… Bingo._

Smiling in hello to the crew as I pass them, I begin down the stairs and into the crews quarters, where none of the crew is to be found. Perfect. I'll not be responsible if Jack's hiding place, which, if you think about it, isn't really that's great of a hiding place to begin with, gets out, I won't be responsible.

Below the crews quarters lies the cargo hold. It's dank and dark, but I know my way around here quite well. During the day, when Jack and I are feeling frisky, sometimes we come down here and do what needs to be done. _Ha. Sometimes I crack myself up. _

I step on a crate sitting by itself on the floor, lifting myself up on it so I can reach for the red sheet. I'm distracted, however, as the door, which I had just snapped shut, opens. It's dark, but I can see a dark figure enter the room.

"Hello?" I ask.

Nothing, for a moment. I'm starting to think I imagined it when the figure pops up right in front of me, causing me to jump and almost fall off the crate and break my ankle. "Jesus Christ," Maxwell hisses in that annoying yet romantic accent of his, catching me before I do any damage. "Don't be so jumpy. It's not good for a girl of your stature."

"Are you kidding?" I demand angrily as I punch his arm, and not gently. "Don't go sneaking up on people like that, especially on a girl of my stature. I could have killed you. Should have, anyway."

He grins at me, and my stomach sinks. "But you didn't."

I push away from him, uncomfortable. "Is there a reason you're down here, or is it just to annoy the shit out of me?"

"Something like that," he says, moving his arm out in front of me, blocking my escape.

"I'm not training with you today," I tell him, putting my foot down.

"You know why I think you enjoy training with me so much, Andie?" Maxwell asks me, in that low voice, leaning forward so he's whispering deeply in my ear. The deep rumble to his voice gives me chills. "The sweat and the work, the contact, it's just like you're…"

"All right," I cut him off before he can continue. I know what he's getting at, and the fact that he knows and, well, obviously feels the same way about our training sessions, scares me. "I get the point."

"Admit it," he says, pressing himself against me.

I exhale. "I'm involved with Jack, you know this."

He extends his other arm so he's on either side of me. His breath is hot on my neck and the feel of his shirt against my arm and collar is driving me mad. His body is so warm, so inviting. "Admit it," he repeats, pressing his lips against my ear.

I swallow because my throat is feeling extremely dry. "Training sessions?"

"Mmm hmm."

I can't believe I'm saying this, let alone admitting it to _him_. "Turns me on."

He laughs, a bitter roar that causes me to shiver right down to my toes. "God, I could tell. You're the kind of girl who gets all fired up by sword fighting, and dangerous situations, and…" he reaches for the hymn of my shirt, sliding his golden palm beneath it. "You're fired up right now, aren't you?"

I slap his hand away. "Get out of here."

"No," he says once more with that cocky smile. Gods, he's so infuriating!

He presses me back against the crates instead, pinning my hands back so they are behind me. I should be scared. I should yell for Jack, I should beat the living shit out of him. But instead, I can't move. I close my eyes and feel his breath against my neck. I tell myself to stop him as he slides his right hand below my belt. I even try to tell myself I'm not feeling warm and excited and _exhilarated_ as I feel his fingers touch me inside.

I don't even notice, but as his hand begins to move, I'm panting. "Heavy breath," Maxwell whispers in my ear. "That's good."

I can't reply as he's kissing down my neck, I just feel and I try and remember to breathe and I bite my lip because I can't make any noise. Can't get caught, can't let anyone know. And then I begin to worry that someone saw him follow me down here, and what if they saw us right now? And that's when my hips start moving against his hand beneath their will, and I'm mewling gently, and I just can't control myself. I can't stop even though I know I should.

"You don't need to keep quiet," he tells me. "Please don't keep quiet."

I almost listen to him. Almost. I bite my lip so hard it stings as I feel that burning beginning in my stomach and spreading quickly between my legs. My legs spread wider apart, my hips move faster. "Almost there," he whispers in my ear, and that's when it's done. It's all over with a sigh, and I realize for the first time I'm sitting on one of those crates, Maxwell crouched down beside me, his hand still between my thighs.

He chuckles at my attempt to catch my breath. "Not even against your will," the bastard says with a grin. "Don't worry, it'll be our little secret."

* * *

I'm late to dinner with Jack.

"I'm sorry," I say as I bust through the door. "I had to borrow a dress from Elizabeth, and then she was wanting to do a bunch of girly things to make me look nice, and-"

He pulls me into his lap and kisses my mouth so I hush. "Yer fine."

I can't get my heart to stop beating so rapidly. I try to ignore his tender touches on my stomach and hips, glancing at the table before me. There's pork and fish and potatoes, and about every dish the cook down in the galley never makes for the crew. He must have been working on this all day.

"You really planned this out, didn't you?" I say to Jack.

He grins that sideward smirk. "I thought ye'd want something nice to keep yer mind off things."

_Oh God, oh God_. "That's so nice," I tell him honestly, kissing him quickly.

"Nice?" Jack says.

I smile, trying to ignore the guilt eating away at my insides. "Amazing."

He kisses me. "That's better."

I reach over and grab a glass of wine, raising the glass to my lips and downing it all in one go. You'd think he'd curse at me for such a thing, but then again, Jack's a pirate. "That's me girl," he states with a chuckle.

"I dressed up all nice for you, and you still look the same," I accuse with a laugh, all though I have to admit he did take the effort to put on his coat and button it up halfway. Some of the buttons aren't even in the right holes. I reach over and unbutton them all, just because they are getting on my nerves.

"Ye sayin' I don't look nice?" Jack grins.

I kiss his mouth. "You look dashing."

"Ravishing, even?"

"Yes," I smile. "Even ravishing."

He raises an eyebrow. "This dress is 'Lizabeth's?"

"Yes it is. And I promised her I would take care of it, so no ripping or getting it dirty, _savvy_? I think I'm actually making a friend, and I want to keep it that way," I tell him as he's kissing my neck, and I swallow nervously, trying not to think of what happened down in the cargo hold today.

I told Maxwell it's never happening again, and I mean that. I love Jack, and I don't want to ruin things with him. I have to admit, though, something inside of my feels relieved, like I've gotten revenge for Jack's fling with Kamella, and excited because I have this big secret. And I feel like shit for enjoying it.

Jack's lips feel so nice and warm and sensual against my jaw. I'm purring, moving closer to him in anticipation. "Ye don't want to be friends with 'Lizabeth," he tells me seriously. "She burns rum."

I laugh. "That was one time. And from what I hear, under desperate circumstances."

"She almost got me hanged!"

I cup his cheeks between my palms. "But she didn't. And you're here now, aren't you? With me, about to enjoy this fabulous meal?"

Suddenly, that boyish, wicked grin spreads across his face. "Good point, love. However, the food can wait. I'd rather skip right to dessert."

With that, Jack lifts me off his lap and carries me over to the bed, tossing me atop the mattress. I giggle as he climbs over me, untying and unbuttoning the borrowed dress. He curses because it's apparently quite difficult to get off, and makes a show of lying it gently across the chest at the foot of the bed. "Didn't even toss it on the floor like I always do yer other clothes," he says, so proud of himself.

"I'm impressed," I laugh.

"And yer about to be impressed further!"

"_I am outside and I've been waiting for the sun  
With my wide eyes, I've seen worlds that don't belong  
My mouth is dry with words I cannot verbalize  
Tell me why we live like this  
Keep me safe inside, your arms like towers  
__Tower over me  
Cause we are broken, what must we do to restore our innocence?  
And all the promise we adored  
Give us life again, cause we just want to be whole."  
__**We Are Broken- Paramore**_

* * *

Okay, you're all going to hate me, I know. But Jack and Andie are both wild individuals, you know? They have a lot of growing and maturing to do. They really haven't changed much. Jack's always trying to make the wrong choice, and in the end, he always makes the right one. And Andie is always trying to make the right choice, but she's always making the wrong ones. They're opposites, but don't worry, cause opposites will always attract.

Reviews are lovely. Thanks: **Sparrow'sVixen, Lexxxiii, VooDooJayneSmith, Iluvenis, Sands, Princess-Maiden, xxStrawberrie, Jackslover94. **


	39. Impossible

_**Note: For Vic.**_

**Chapter Thirty-Nine**

"**Life is a long lesson in humility."  
****-James M. Barrie**

Sometimes he's so intimate I can't even think. Not intimate how other men are, however. It's the way we won't be speaking, and he'll kiss my hair, and look at me like for a moment, holding my gaze with an emotionless expression… and then smile. Tonight is not the same. Tonight we lie in silence, not even glancing at each other at all.

Sometimes, he makes my heart ache.

"I'm sorry," I whisper to him. I know I've upset him. Things we're going so well, and then… then I told him to stop his ministrations, his kissing, his touching. The guilt is killing me, it really is. How could I have done something so stupid? And part of me thinks it was just to hurt him. And the other part of me thinks my mind had no control over my body. Foolish, I know. Impossible.

He leans up, balancing his hand against his jaw. "Tell me what's going on," he demands gently.

_What if I loose him? _"I can't," I reply.

He shakes his head, sighs, and then lies back, folding his arms behind his head. "I'll wait."

"Wait for what?"

"Wait until ye stop bein' so fucking stubborn," Jack snaps at me.

I won't lie, even though I know he's right, it stings. Therefore, out of instinct, I fight back without thinking beforehand. "You're just angry because you had plans that didn't go the way you wanted them to."

"How did I want them to go, then?"

"Well, it didn't involve clothing of any sorts."

He raises an eyebrow at me, peeking dramatically under the sheets. "Well, darling, as far as I can see, ye don't seem to be wearing any clothing. So what part of my fabulous plan _didn't_ go my way?"

I glare daggers at him. If stares could really kill, he would stop breathing at any goddamned moment! "As you can see, _darling_," I bite out sarcastically. "You don't seem to be getting much action from this naked lass."

"'Cause ye are too worried about hell knows what," the pirate replies. "Ye've always been a tease, Andie. And ye always will be. We get this far, and then ye say ye can't go any farther. It's not like yer a virgin, but yer damned well acting like it."

"I swear," I say, getting out from beneath the covers and stepping out of the bed, "You really act like that's all that matters to you!" I start dressing quickly, buckling my belt and tightening my boots more than necessary.

Jack rolls his eyes at me. "Grow up, Andie, ye know it's different."

"Different than what? Any other whore you've been with?" I'm nearly screaming at him at this point, and I swing open the door in an angry haze.

"Yer not a whore," he tells me quietly.

I'm so angry and surprised these words come out of his mouth, I shake my head, tears stinging my eyes. "You have no idea what or who I am. No one does. I'm a freak, remember?" And with this, I slam the door shut. He doesn't follow me. I'm not sure if I wanted him to or not.

I must have walked around the deck four or five times, breathing deeply and trying to decide what I should do, before I hear a voice. "Trouble in paradise?"

It's Tara, her hair down in golden curls and her eyes sparkling. I don't think I have ever seen a young woman so beautiful, so knowledgeable yet innocent. "Did you lie to me?" I demand from her, "About the protection spell."

She raises an eyebrow. "Somewhat."

"It's a yes or no question."

"I lead them away. Close enough," she explains with a girlish giggle.

"How did you do that? Dream walking?" I ask her. I'm extremely curious as to why Loyal would be following. And why Anson would be following him, and not on the same terms. And especially why Tara and Maxwell are supposed to be on my side, yet, it would seem the exact opposite.

Tara nods. "Did you discover your own capabilities?"

"Yes."

Her pink lips turn up just slightly. "And who do you dream of? Your friend?"

_How does she know so much_? "Stanley, yes. He told me of your own talents. What did Loyal say to you when you spoke with him?"

She shrugs. "He's worried. Anson is dangerous. I think he needs your help."

Now I'm growing even more worried and anxious. My stomach is unsteady. "My help with what?"

"His wife," Tara says quietly. "She's disappeared."

Suddenly, like a puzzle, things feel like they are falling into place. "And he assumes Anson had something to do with this, doesn't he?" I ask, and Tara nods sympathetically in response. "Can you walk again? Get in touch with Loyal?"

Tara seems hesitant to agree. "It's dangerous, Andie."

But I'm too set on my sudden plan to care what is dangerous or not. I want Isabella back to Loyal, safe and sound. I really hope it's not too late. And mostly? I want to find out what Anson wants, why he is following me, and what are the reasons for his actions. Insanity not being an excuse, of course. "Everything we do is dangerous."

"Anson has powerful ties. Especially on your brother. He's aware of this, and dream walking with someone who is awake, who is in this world… is extremely risky. It could give us away."

I raise an eyebrow. "What kind of ties?"

"I'm not exactly sure yet," Tara explains. "But Loyal is unable to loose him for very long. He's looking for you, and I don't think he's going to end his search any time soon. He's going to go through Loyal in order to get to you. Do you want that?"

I never think in a situation like this. I talk too quickly and think too much on instinct. If only my plans could always fall through, like Jack's. _Jack_.

"Dream walk," I demand from her.

"Andie…" she starts.

I shake my head at her. "We can't keep running."

She thinks for a moment, watches my face for what seems to be forever, and then nods. "I'll walk."

"Thank you," I say under my breath as she turns away. She doesn't respond.

* * *

Jaden says I'm stressed. I have a terrible headache and my stomach is all in knots. He hands me a glass of tea (his remedy for everything) and tells me to rest. He doesn't know, however, that I can't go back to the captain's quarters. Not with Jack in there, anyway. I've been watching the door, the area. He hasn't come out yet.

"What are you drinking?"

It takes me a beat to even respond to the deep, sultry voice standing behind my chair in the galley. My heart skips a beat; my adrenaline is rushing. The crew is still asleep. We're alone in the galley.

"You shouldn't be down here," I tell Maxwell.

I can almost hear the grin in his voice. "I've never followed the _should_ and _should not's."_

I swallow thickly, trying to get my heart to stop beating so loud. "I love Jack."

"That's sweet," Maxwell says, scooping his hand beneath my hair and sliding it over my left shoulder so he can run his smooth, luscious lips over the swoop of my collar.

"He makes me feel safe, and he's got a good heart, and…"

Maxwell frowns, pausing in his ministrations. "Sounds to me like the worst pirate ever."

I think about this. "He is. Simultaneously, he's the best."

"Mmm hmm," Maxwell says, sitting on the table before me, lifting me up with no problem. I'm standing between his legs, his fingers moving towards my belt once more.

"What are you doing?" I say breathlessly.

He's grinning at me. "Shut up and relax."

"Stop," I tell him. "I can't, I told you. I'm with Jack."

Maxwell's brows go up, slightly amused. "I know. I just don't give a shit."

It's hard to push away when his mouth his moving along my throat. It's my spot, what Jack always uses against me in order for me to agree to something, what he uses lat at night to convince me sleep is not always the best possibility for the time. I can already feel my thighs beginning to tingle, to burn with the need for contact.

"Stop," I tell him again, shoving against his chest. I jump back while I have the chance, running hands through my hair. "Just stop. I can't. I don't know why I can't control myself with you, honestly. I hate it. I hate you. I don't _want_ you."

_Part of you is lying, Andie_, I tell myself._ Why do I want him so much?_

Suddenly, I can hear footsteps. Someone is coming down into the galley. I begin to panic, but Maxwell seems just as cool and confident as ever. I freeze, my boots cemented to the floor. "Watch this," he smiles, and gets up, disappearing back by the steps. It's dark and hard to see from a slight bit of candlelight. "Oh, good evening, captain!" I hear him say, and I wish I could just fall through the boards of the ship, plummet to my death. It would make everything so much easier. "Are you looking for Andie? Oh, she's all ready for you, sir, begging for your company."

_What a bloody idiot._

"Don't ye have someone ye can go stab or cast a spell on?" Jack snaps at him, his voice low and careful. He's in a bad mood.

"Sure," Maxwell tells him. "Have a nice night." His steps transcend up the stairs, while another pair comes down. I fold my arms together and drop my head down onto them in frustration. My cheeks are hot. _What if he sees and knows? _

I hear a chair being pulled out and Jack clears his throat. I raise my head. "What were ye doin' down here with Maxwell?"

I roll my eyes at him. "He follows me around like a lost puppy?"

"Every moment yer not with me, yer with him," Jack says. His eyes are so dark.

I throw my hands up in defeat. "What do you want me to say?"

"I want ye to _talk_ to me, love." Jack pulls me up out of my own chair and slides me onto his lap so he can wrap his strong arms around my waist and bury his face in my hair. "Stop pushing me away."

Figures he wouldn't apologize. He never does. I'm not sure what he should be apologizing for this time, however. I know it was all my fault. "I'm sorry I told you to stop," I whisper.

"It doesn't matter."

But it does. I know it does. He knows it does. "We're just a mess."

He shakes his head. "No we're not. I know ye. More so than ye think I do."

I sigh. It's like him to deny something like that. I don't want to upset him any further so I just shut up. I can't tell him how wrong he is.

Jack cups my cheek in his hand, his fingers rough but his caresses soft. His kiss touches the corner of my mouth and I sigh loudly, leaning into him. "Ye see?" he whispers into my ear, and my stomach feels empty, my body is thrilled. I shudder.

His hands slide around to my backside, pushing me hard against him. I can feel how much he wants me against my thigh. I tangle one hand in his hair, my heart racing. "I want you, Jack, I do. It's just hard for me to-"

He takes my hand, placing it over where he needs me most in this moment. I tighten my fingers around him and he exhales through his nose, his jaw tight. I think back when I told him he acts like this is all that matters to him, and I feel guilty. I know it's not everything to him. It's just the only way we feel close to each other anymore because we rarely talk. I told him I could never trust him again. Part of that has truth, but what have I done now? We could never trust each other ever again, really.

He kisses me, and I close my eyes, my mouth so charmed but his own, moving so swiftly and luscious. He tastes like salt, like rum and desire. He tastes like he always does. "I won't let ye give up," Jack says against my mouth. "On me, on anything."

I'm not really listening with the haze my head is in. I'm just able to feel, as it always has been with him. I meet his eyes with my own, reaching for his belt. He watches me with his own chocolate eyes, holding my gaze, and out belts hit the ground in the same loud _thump_. I smile at him.

Absorbed by his sent and relief that I had stood up for myself this time with Maxwell, I am able to push him completely out of my mind for this moment, and roll my hips against Jack's, watching his chest move out as he inhales, and his eyes close. I kept help but realize how beautiful he really is. Every scar, every dark patch of sun on his tattooed skin. I feel so energized, so powerful that I am causing him to feel this way.

He lifts me up onto the table more roughly than I think he means to, leans down to slide my pants over my hips, begins kissing my flesh just below my navel and my hips, exhaling through his lips just over that perfect spot…

Then he stops. He looks at me, and this cocky, revengeful grin appears on his face. It's only now that I realize what he's doing. He has me all worked up, just as I had him, and then steps back to grab his belt. He has more control over himself and his desires than I have ever seen before as his belt buckle is snapped back into place.

I try to grab at him, but he steps back again. "Revenge has always been a bitch, darling."

I should have known what he was doing. Should have known from the moment he touched me. "I suppose it has," I agree. And I watch him walk away without so much as another word. I'm shocked; I can't even move.

It takes me a minute to get up the nerve to step up those stairs and find myself up on deck. I'm trying to breathe calmly, deeply. My heart is still racing a mile a minute. Maxwell is standing there, waiting for me. "Did you tell him?" he asks with a smile.

"No, I didn't bloody tell him," I hiss under my breath.

He slides closer to me. "Want me to tell him?"

I freeze, even though I am trying to walk away and get far, far from him. "If anyone is going to tell him, it's not going to be you."

"So you're going to tell him, then?"

I exhale loudly, trying to control my temper. "Push me anymore over the edge, and I swear to God, Maxwell…"

He tries to reach for me, but I step away from him, smacking right into a strong chest. "Is there a problem?" Rodney, always coming to my rescue.

Maxwell shrugs, acting so nonchalant yet more sarcastic that I have ever seen. This is pathetic. I should have known he was trouble from the first moment I saw him! Actually, he _was_ trouble the first moment I saw him! "No problems with me, but I can't really say the same for your friend here. You see, Andie's keeping some pretty big secrets from the man she supposedly _loves_."

I cannot control it any longer, I step forward and with a swift kick, my boot connects with his most prized possession as a man, and he falls to the floor of the deck, unable to catch his breath and hands grasping at his trousers. "Fuck with me again. I dare you," I warn him.

He tries to say something, but all I can hear is stuttering, considering his face is buried against his chest, his knees barely keeping him up on the deck of the _Black Pearl._ I dart at him again, but Rodney grabs me up in his arms, kicking and squirming, yelling for him to put me down. He doesn't. Instead, he drags me towards the helm.

I manage to wriggle out of his arms, and Rodney is content when I don't try to run back and finish Maxwell off. "Andie, what was that all about?"

"Nothing," I snap.

"Do you think he's bleeding?" Rodney cringes, looking back at Maxwell, still writhing in pain.

"Gods, I hope so," I reply vindictively.

The crew has started to wake and gather around my new boss as they step on deck, some laughing at him, some feeling his pain. I'm so angry I really could care less. Actually, I kind of hope Jack orders them to flog me. That would really be a great ending to this perfect night!

And then, just as Rodney and I round the corner, his hand holding my arm, there Jack is, his brow brought together in confusion. "What just happened?" he asks Rodney more than me.

"Andie just-"

I shove Jack against his chest. "You know what? You were right, Jack. Something is going on between Maxwell and I. A lot, actually. I'm a bad person, all right? And I bloody blame that breakdown the other night on you! So, fuck Kamella and fuck Athena's curse and Maxwell and you, because once again, I'm bloody done with it all! Next port you see, I want off this god damn _boat_!"

"_You'll be relieved when you open up  
You let yourself seem venerable  
In the morning sun, we'll make our bodies comfortable  
In taking off your clothes__everything hidden is suddenly exposed."  
_"_**Your Friends Are Gone" -Circa Survive**_

* * *

Ok, so I got a review the other day on Fair, not so much on Lady Fair, but I figure it to be the same. Apparently my story focuses too much on Andie, who is too much of a MarySue, not enough on Jack, and my story isn't original. Thought it was interesting cause it's the only review that is the exact opposite of everyone else's reviews. I was actually kind of salty after reading it. Thoughts, anyone? I've never really thought of Andie as a MarySue, but maybe it's just me. And yes, I do focus a lot on her; I did that on purpose because I love the character. Do you all think I need to focus on Jack more? I'm just curious, really. I don't think I'll change the objective of the story or the focus on Andie's character. I write this mostly for myself, to be honest. Not that I don't love the lot of you!

Reviews are nice. Hope everyone is having a nice start to the school year!


	40. Take What's Yours

-1**Chapter Forty**

"**Reflect upon the defects of your character: thoroughly realize their evils and the transient pleasures they give you, and firmly will that you shall try your best not to yield to them the next time." **

**-Helen P. Blavatsky**

"Andie, open the door."

I ignore the knocking, swinging the chain of my mother's locket before my face, back and forth, back and forth. I've drowned out the entire world except for myself and my thoughts. Sounds like me, right? So incredibly selfish.

Perhaps it's been my entire fault from the beginning. I let Jack in. I fell for him hard. We've both ruined everything, and I should just give up. And yet I still love him. I still love him, and yet Maxwell has this power over me that I can't understand. I wish I knew as much about the curse and all of this as Tara does. Tara is…

Tara.

I jump off the bed, setting the locket on the side table and unlocking the door. Elizabeth and Tara sit outside, where they have been attempting to convince me to let them in for a good half hour. I reach down, grabbing Tara's arm and pulling her up from her sitting position on the floor. She doesn't fight back, but jumps when I pull her behind the door of Jack's cabin and slam the door shut so we can be alone.

There is silence for a moment before the pounding stars again. "Bloody hell!" Elizabeth protests. "What is this? Unfair!"

Tara is giving me a curious look. "Something wrong?" she asks.

Yes, something is bloody wrong! "What's wrong with Maxwell?"

She raises an eyebrow and giggles that little girl laugh, flashing teeth as perfect and white as pearls. "You ruined the chance of him having children, that's what's wrong with him!"

"Not that," I say quickly, "There's something about him. A lure, like we have."

Her smile changes, but I'm not sure if it's sympathetic or disappointed. "Like you have. I don't need to hunt."

I raise an eyebrow, confused at what she is saying. "Hunt?"

"You're a predator, Andie. You hunt things. People, the unknown. They are attracted to you so it's easier for you to drag them in, do what you will with them. Help them."

Suddenly, things begin to make sense. "And Maxwell? He's not cursed."

"Maxwell is… different," Tara explains to me.

I just want to know the truth. I don't love Maxwell, I know this for sure. But the way my body reacts to him? It's frightening. "How different?" I ask.

"Maxwell is very efficient with magic. But he's wishy-washy. He doesn't always use his knowledge for good. The gypsies have faith in him. I don't think it's really Maxwell you're attracted to, Andie, but the power that is resonating off of him. You're body is adjusting to these new attributes you have discovered with the curse, therefore the two of you, with what you behold, are attracting one another," Tara says, taking a seat in Jack's desk chair. "Power is like that."

I balance myself on the end of the bed. "But you have power."

She has a little smirk on her face. "And Stanley had power. He was cursed, same as you. You were attracted to him."

"No," I admit thoughtfully. "That was different. It felt different. With Stanley, we were both young; it was infatuation. With Maxwell, it's control. I can't help but to respond when he's close, when he touches me…"

Tara sighs, but yet still has that look on her face, like she has a secret she wants to tell, but knows she will get in trouble for telling. I think this will be more simple than I thought. "I'm not supposed to tell you."

I lean forward, smiling this little smile that hints I will not tell on her. "You can tell me, Tara," I say gently, like she is a child. She laughs, wriggling in her chair, just about to give in.

"Nicolas told me not to. He's the boss, you know."

"Nicolas loves me," I remind her. "That's why I'm his favorite. If I wasn't, he would have fired me long ago. I'm sure he would tell me himself if he were here, don't you think?"

She shakes her head. "Why would he tell you, you wouldn't stay away from him, then!" she exclaims, stilling for a moment. Then, she laughs and I can tell she did this on purpose. She likes to start trouble, that's obvious from our time together. "Oops."

"Wouldn't stay away from who?" I ask carefully.

It's hard to concentrate, because I can hear Rodney outside the door, now, calling me. He wants me to let him in, but I won't, not until Tara answers my questions. "Please, Andie, you know I'm not upset with you." What am I, a child?

"The pirate," Tara reveals. "They're paranoid you will turn your back on the fold again, run off with Jack. He thinks love makes a person soft. And if you are with child? That's the worst consequence of them all."

This brings back memories of Chester, waking me in the middle of the night and warning me about Jack and I being careless, frightened I would get pregnant. The curse would interfere with the child, he said. My body would not except it kindly like a normal woman's would.

"We're careful," I tell her. Sometimes.

She shrugs. "Seems Maxwell and Nicolas have already won."

I shake my head. "No, they haven't."

Tara raises an eyebrow, standing from her chair. Rodney's knocking is getting louder. "Then why have you locked yourself in this room, alone with a family heirloom?" she points to the locket beside the bed.

I didn't tell her the locket was my mother's. The one who knows anything about it on the Black Pearl is Jack. I left it for him the first time I left. My mother loved this locket, and so do I. My heart literally aches; am I going to loose Jack now? I didn't mean it when I said I wanted to leave at the next dock. I really didn't. I don't think before I speak, he knows that. But will he except

"I over-reacted," I admit.

She nods. "He's very upset with you."

"I don't know how to make it better," I admit helplessly. "What if he never forgives me for what I've done?"

Tara raises an eyebrow. "With Maxwell?" I nod, miserable. "Andie, you are the only thing in his world, that's obvious. You and the sea. Things will work out the way they are supposed to. I guess now you just need to show him what he wants."

"And what's that?"

"That he's most important to you," she smiles. "Just don't tell anyone I said any of this. I'm supposed to be on Maxwell's side."

Funny, cause I thought we were all supposed to be on the same side. "Why aren't you?" I ask her.

She picks up my mother's locket from the table, touching it with small, gentle fingers. "I just don't see why love has to be so harmful. I want to see a happy ending for once."

I smile at her. "Have you ever been in love?" She shakes her head no. I didn't think so. "There are no happy endings."

"But there could be," she suggests. "Have hope."

"I've had hope with one couple my entire life. My brother and Isabella. Now look where that's gone," I say, sitting back on the edge of the bed with a sigh. It really is hopeless. "She's… Lord only knows. Anson has her, I know he does. We have to find her, that's all I need to concentrate on right now. If only I could stop feeling sorry for myself and make it right with Jack."

She sits down beside me. "I did as you asked."

I turn towards her, trying to feign hope in my eyes. She's not convinced. I don't think I have any hope anymore, not when it comes to Anson. He'll find me, I know he will. What he wants, I still am unsure, but he's not going to stop until he gets it, he's made that much clear. I just want Isabella to be all right. "What did he reveal, anything?"

Tara shakes her head. "Not much, Andie. Just that he wants to get to you. And he wants her back. He's in love."

I smile. "They're crazy about each other."

"Just like you and the captain," she nudges me with a smile. "Believe me, Andie. People in love shouldn't be apart."

Then, suddenly, the both of us look directly up at the ceiling, our "heart-to-heart" disturbed by loud shouting and running around up on the deck of the Black Pearl.

"I bet I can tell you what that is," Tara says to me, and I know exactly what that means. Jack and Maxwell. Sheathing my sword, I'm up those stairs in a second, immediately spotting the crowd and shoving my way through to the scene taking place before the entire crew. I find myself standing next to Rodney, his brow sweating and worry written all over his handsome face.

"You think we should just let them duke it out for a while?" AnaMaria says from my left side.

I can't take my eyes off them, circling around each other like animals about to pounce, swords aimed. "Not if they kill each other," Rodney tells her, but his baby blues are on me. He expects me to stop it; After all, I'm the one who started it all.

Norma Jean, at my feet, barks sporadically, nervous and threatened by all of the noise. The crew shouts, cheering their captain on. My stomach lurches. I can feel so many eyes on me. "I think it's all up to you now, Andie," he whispers in my ear.

I want to cry. And then, as I open my eyes to gaze upon the two me before me, Jack and Maxwell's swords are crossing, their feet moving much faster, arms darting outward. "God damnit, Jack, stop this!" I yell out to him. Nothing.

"Maybe their just letting out some anger," AnaMaria suggests. "They'll feel better in a few minutes."

"Sure," Rodney snaps at her. "When one of them is bleeding to death."

"This is ridiculous," I say. "What happened?"

"Maxwell told him he should have let you go, and he was a fool to come looking for you," Nolan says from behind me.

Jaden snorts from his side. "Said you are meant for something more than a bloody pirate to be distracting you. Jack told him to shut his bloody mouth before he did it for him."

AnaMaria leans in close to me. "Maxwell said it was a waste of his time to even bother to help you, cause all it has caused the both of you is trouble, and you're just a bloody whore, anyways. Jack nearly broke his jaw, right then. Will pulled them apart, but their at it again, obviously."

_Jesus Christ, I can't believe this is happening. _"I… they…" I stutter. I don't know what to do.

"Andie," Elizabeth says. "Stop them."

I look to Will, standing tall beside her. "It's your place. I already did it once," he says, rubbing his jaw. Apparently when he pulled Jack and Maxwell apart, he was fought against as well. _That's what we always get for helping people,_ I want to tell him.

"What is she to you, anyway?" Maxwell says to Jack, between the striking of blades. "She saved your ass and the two of you have a nice tumble. And what, suddenly it's fate and you're in love? That's not love, pirate." Jack jumps forward, swinging his sword, nearly taking Maxwell's hand with it as the metal collides once more. "Pirates don't love. And neither does the curse. She obviously doesn't love you. What are you bloody fighting for?"

I'm hot. I almost get sick right here, but I attempt to swallow and take deep breaths. "Jack, he's just trying to rile you. Stop it, before you get hurt."

"Yes, Jack," Maxwell says in a high voice, obviously mocking me. "I just couldn't help myself, please forgive me for stabbing you in the back, like so many others have done before." Then, he smiles. "She'll probably stage your mutiny next."

"You're a piece of work, you know that? " I snap at Maxwell. "You're just a spy from Nicolas, anyhow, trying to break Jack and I apart."

"Andie," Tara nudges me. "Stop it. I told you that in privacy!"

"You just want me to pretend he's helping me? He's not. The training sessions, they haven't taught me anything I didn't already know. I don't need his bloody help. I want Chester back. At least he had some intelligence."

"For your information," Maxwell bites out, blocking Jack's sword once more, "I have plenty of intelligence, which is more than I can say for you, or your lover here. You're both swooning dolts, that's for sure. But hey," Maxwell directs towards Jack. "She's good for a lay or two, isn't she?"

That did it. Jack nearly pounces on him, causing Maxwell to jump up on the side of ship, balancing himself on his two feet now. He has the advantage, swiping at Jack's head and neck. However, it doesn't last for long. Jack is up there with him a moment later, the metal of their blades sounding and the audience of their show gasping.

Maxwell's back to me, I decide I have the advantage. Jack and I are a team, and that's the way I want it to stay. I jump up on the ledge beside him, taping him on the back. Jack stills, surprised. As Maxwell looks quickly over his shoulder, the tip of his blade at the captain of the Black Pearl's jugular, I kick him in the knee, simultaneously shoving Jack away from Maxwell, the ledge of his ship, and Maxwell's blade.

It all seems to go down in slow motion, Jack falling back onto the deck, Maxwell losing his balance. I can see a bit of blood on Jack's neck as I glance over at him, waiting for the sound of Maxwell's struggling body to hit the water. And then, as I'm waiting, I can feel something wrap around my angle, gripping onto my boot. Maxwell's hand. I lose my balance as well, crashing over the edge. My head slams against the side of the _Black Pearl_, causing my vision to go black and my body to go slack, and then I'm surrounded by water. The feel of Maxwell's force gravitating me down, as expected, is nonexistent. We must have been separated when we hit the ocean. My lounges fill with the salt water and burn; it hurts to move. I kick, I fight, but I can feel my vision blurring.

And then… nothing.

_Can't breathe._

When I open my eyes, someone is holding onto me, my body still emerged in water. I look up; it's Will and Rodney. "What happened?" I gasp.

"Maxwell pulled you down with him. You hit your head," Will spits.

I touch the left side of my head, guiding myself from where the pain is located. My fingers come back a watery shade of red. "Oh, God."

"Bitch," someone sputters. It's Maxwell. "Trying to drown me, are you?"

"It's a pity she didn't," Rodney tells me, anger written all over his face.

It's hard to see, my vision keeps going in and out. "We need to get her back up as soon as possible," I can hear Will's voice. I can feel arms and hands. Which one is he? And why am I hurting so much?

"Hurry, give her to me," a familiar voice says. Jack? The waves are moving so fast around me. I can feel a warm body, pulling me from the water. He slides me gently over his shoulder, as though I am a china doll, easily broken. Am I?

"Careful with her," Rodney tells him.

My head is pounding, but I can see a bit more once I feel my back against the smooth, safe, non moving wood of the deck. I gasp, trying to breathe. There is so much noise, so much pain. My whole body is aching from my teeth to my fingernails. "Make it stop," I cough.

"Get back to your stations," someone calls to the crew. Rodney.

I wipe my eyes, trying to rid them of the salt water. Jack leans over me, wiping my hair away from my face. "Jack?" I call quietly. "Your neck is bleeding."

I reach out to touch him, but he moves away. Jaden appears in his place, turning me over, causing me to nearly cough up my lounges. "Easy," he tells me.

"Jack," I call again. He does not appear at my side.

Jaden and Rodney help me to Jaden's quarters, Will and Elizabeth following closely behind. My head is so blurred, so confused. I keep calling for Jack, but as they lie me down on the extra cot for Jaden's patient's, Elizabeth smoothes back my hair with the tender fingers of a sister. "He's dealing with something right now, he'll be here later."

But I know she's lying. He's not going to come at all.

"I better go lock Maxwell up before Jack kills him," Rodney says, squeezing my hand. "I'll be right back, I promise, all right, Andie?"

"Yes," I say, because it hurts to talk and it really hurts to nod. I touch my head again. "Why am I bleeding?" Will grabs a blanket and lays it over me as Jaden inspects the wound on my head, and I'm shaking terribly. "Don't touch me," I snap at him.

"Andie, he's helping you," Elizabeth explains in that soft, melodic voice of hers.

"I don't want to be touched," I say, swatting at him.

Jaden sighs, easily holding my hands down. "She's always been a pain in the ass when it comes to her needing help. This wound isn't bad, you've just given yourself a slight concussion. You'll be just fine."

Will looks down upon me. "How do you feel?"

"Like I smashed my head against the side of a very large sailing vessel," I bite out sarcastically.

"Well," he smiles at me, his hand on Elizabeth's shoulder. "She seems no more than normal to me."

I roll over, cursing myself for even moving. I need sleep, I can't even keep my eyes open and I'm hurting everywhere. But I don't want to drift off, in case there is a little chance that Jack actually will come. I want to speak to him, want to hear his voice. I want him to know Maxwell was wrong, and that I really do love him.

"Andie," Elizabeth says.

"He's never going to speak to me again," I tell her.

She sighs. "It might take time. But when you fell… he jumped in right after you. Keep that in mind."

Jack saved me? He was the one who pulled me out of the water? "But Will and Rodney…"

"We helped too," Will explains. "Someone had to keep them apart, even in the water. However, Jack seemed more concerned about your welfare than having anything to do with Maxwell, thankfully."

Elizabeth kisses me on the cheek. "You want me to go get him?"

Will nudges her. "You know how stubborn he is," he whispers to her.

"He can at least some see how she is, angry or not," Elizabeth tells him sternly. "I'll be back, Andie. Everything will be all right."

Will sighs, nodding to her, watching her every move until she exits through the door. They are always looking at each other with puppy-dog eyes, especially Will. Sometimes it would seem Elizabeth has the upper-hand, just because he is so willing to please her. It's sweet, really. They remind me so much of Loyal and Isabella.

Will rocks back and forth on his feet, creating an awkward situation and looking at me uncomfortably. "So, how about the weather?"

"_Under your spell again  
I can't say no to you  
Crave my heart and it's bleeding in your hand  
I can't say no to you.  
Shouldn't have let you torture me so sweetly  
Now I can't let go of this dream."  
**"Good Enough" -Evanescence**_

_Reviews, pretties. I love them. Thanks so much for the support and the feedback. You guys keep me going, and it's so nice to see that all of you really do enjoy this story and Andie just as much as I do, even though she kind of steals the spot light from Jack in this story. It is called Lady Fair, after all. _

_Which brings me to my "contest", of sorts… For the third installment, which I haven't started writing yet but is coming up sometime soon, I haven't thought up a title yet. I of course would like to use fair in it, but I'm lacking ideas. So, here's the deal; submit some ideas that I can use (With fair or not), and the "winner" will get the first chapter of new story before I submit it to the website, and a personalized one-shot written just for them. Sound like a good idea? I'm struggling with titles, guys. Help me out here. _

_Much love,_

_Lady A_


	41. Strife

-1**Chapter Forty-One**

"**Compromise is but the sacrifice of one right or good in hope of retaining another- too often ending in the loss of both."  
****-Tryon Edwards **

It's early when something rouses me from sleep. I blink at first, trying weakly to remember when and why I fell asleep in the first place. Oh, that's right; the pain in my head, the ache in my chest. There is a patch of gauze on my forehead, next to my left temple. I hit my head when Maxwell pulled me down over the side of the _Black Pearl_ with him. Jack jumped in after me. And then? Well, I haven't seen him since. Really, I suppose I cannot blame him.

I blink, glancing over to the corner of the room. Jaden is no longer in the room but Will and Elizabeth still are, sitting close to each other, Will's large hands holding a book. Softly, he's reading out loud to her and she is engrossed in the story, her hand gently rubbing his knee and her legs pulled up against her chest. They are so enamored with another; their affection is no doubt admirable.

I find myself jealous of their close bond. Jack and I are of course very different people from The Turner's, but I still can't help but wish Jack and I had something, even just a little, of what they have. In this moment, no one or nothing else exists to them.

"What are you reading?" I ask them groggily from sleep, my voice quiet. My jealousy causes me to feel the need to break their little, sweet world. I feel guilty immediately after.

Elizabeth gives me a sad smile. "Hamlet. How is your head?"

"Throbbing, but I feel all right," I reply. "Thanks. You both didn't have to stay on Andie-watch, you know."

Will grins. "Jaden told us to stay in here. Said you always try to escape."

I sit up, rubbing my sore head. "I hate lying around."

"Your wound," Elizabeth begins, shifting her body into a not-so-intimate position with her husband, not that it was inappropriate. It's cute, her aristocrat nature. I've never embraced mine. "It will heal in a day or so, yes?"

I nod. "Head wounds take a bit longer to heal completely, but yes, it will take just a few days."

"I'll bet that's nice," Will comments.

"You'd think," I say. "I've never really been completely comfortable with being a freak and all."

Elizabeth gives me this pretty, sympathetic look that makes her seem so young and naïve, all though I know she's been through a lot more than most woman our age. "You're not a freak. You're _special_. You should embrace it. It's quite amazing, even."

"Look how much trouble being special gets me into."

"With all good comes the bad," Will remarks. "Trust me."

I nod, and there is a bit of silence. All I can think about is Jack, and why he isn't here, and what I've done to him. Why didn't he just leave me in the water? I'm a bit surprised he didn't, but then again, I'm not. Jack has a soft heart. He does, even though he will deny it until his dying breath. The two of us are a pair, that's for sure.

"How's Jack?" I ask in a whisper, looking down to inspect my fingernails.

"His neck is fine," Will tells me. "It was only a scratch."

Elizabeth is watching me for my reaction. The look in her eyes tells me she doesn't know what to say about the situation. She probably thinks I have become the character I was betraying back at the _El Fantasma_. Have I? Has it become reality?

"I'm not who you think I am," I tell them, finding the need to explain myself.

"As far as I know, you're Andie Bryant. Holder of Athena's curse, turned pirate-lass," Will Turner has an extremely charming smile. "I don't understand it all, you know, but we're not going to judge you. What's the point?"

"I haven't had the best first impression."

Elizabeth lies, "First impressions mean nothing."

I nod. "Has he… been down here?" I ask. I know she'll say no, but I want to ask anyway. I suppose I just have to hear out loud that it's over with him. My chest hurts, and I feel like I can't breathe, all though my chest is rising and falling normally. I'm cold; all I want is to be lying in bed with him right now, his arms around my waist and his breath against my neck. That's when I feel the most safe, every night, when we lie in bed and talk softly, or just rest in silence, asleep or no.

Elizabeth and her husband exchange glances. "He didn't want us to tell you, but he did come down to check on you." I'm surprised by Will's words, really. So he does still care, then? "Rodney is guarding Maxwell in the brig, ready to end another battle before it begins."

I step out of the bed, my head rushing. I press two fingers to my temple, but stand anyway, still wearing my same clothing but missing my boots. I venture across the room to slide them over my feet. "Andie, where are you going?"

"I need to talk to him."

They exchange a look, but I hear Elizabeth whisper, "Let her go."

I'm out the door before they even try and stop me. The steps seem much steeper than they normally do, as if I'm climbing up a mountain or a massive hill with a pail of water, aware I will spill every drop out of the bucket before I get to the other side.

All though I am extremely disappointed in myself and everything I have done, I am proud of myself now. I know I need to speak with Jack, to make things right with him, and for once in my life, I am not running away. I don't like emotions; I don't like feeling them, and most of all, I don't like to express them. Anger is the only one I feel most comfortable with.

Now, the only one I'm angry with is myself. I won't make excuses, knowing now that it was Maxwell's power and supernatural lure that attracted my own. Obviously I have no control over my curse and my own power; therefore, instead of begging Jack for forgiveness and explaining the situation, I am going to work on my own self control.

But, well, we all know things don't always go my way.

The deck isn't silent, but is busy with men working. A few wave to me, but I think they are afraid to speak in my direction. They don't want to make their captain any angrier than he was this morning. I can see Jack up at the helm, his back facing me and his spyglass out. I take a deep breath, my legs not working as quickly as I thought they were. I am in slow motion.

He hears my footsteps and doesn't even need to turn around to know it's me standing behind him. "Sometimes I think ye just like to scare me."

My brow furrows. "I don't want to scare you." He doesn't close his spy glass, just continues to watch a ship approaching in the distance. "Jack," I say, and reach out to touch him. He shrugs away before my fingertips can ever brush the threads that hold his great blue coat together. Slowly, I pull my hand back. "I didn't mean anything I said. I didn't."

He's silent for a moment. "Was it good for ye, too?"

"What?"

He turns to glance over his shoulder for just a moment, his face emotionless, before turning back to gaze out into the water. His eyes don't meet mine. "Maxwell."

I exhale. I knew this was coming; so why do I still feel so unprepared? "No. I… I didn't have sex with Maxwell, Jack. I know he lead you to believe…"

"You did," he says. "You lead me to believe that."

I try and breathe normally. "I know."

"Did ye kiss him?" he asks, his voice deep and rough. Jealousy.

"No. Kissing is too…personal," I explain. "You're the only person I should be kissing. Don't you think?" My voice snaps a bit, all though I don't mean for it to. His shoulder jerks, knowing this comment was a stab at his rendezvous back in Port Royal with Kamella in The Turner's kitchen.

He doesn't say anything, but raises his spyglass once more, his body suddenly going still. I reach out to touch him once more, this time receiving a brief contact before he moves away from me for a second time. "Andie, go back to Jaden's cabin."

My chest goes hallow at this. "No."

He finally turns, his hands taking a harsh grip on my shoulders. "Lock yourself in that room," he says aggressively in my ear. But not the way I usually enjoy to hear his voice, so gravely. I can hear something else in his voice.

"What is it?" I ask, looking to his face.

He grabs me, prepared to drag me back under the deck himself. I dig my heels into the wood of the floor and shove him away, glancing at the approaching ship, my vision slightly blurry from the pain in my head. "It's the ship, isn't it?" I ask, squinting my eyes and gripping the sleeves of his coat as he moves towards me again.

Something in the pit of my stomach tells me who it is, however. I don't know how, but I just know, maybe from the look in Jack's eyes of the feel of his uneven breath against my neck, or the angry twitch in his jaw. "It's Anson, isn't it?"

"Get back in that room before I hand ye over to him meself," Jack snaps.

_Stop talking to me like I'm weak_, I think. "Go ahead."

A sardonic chuckle sounds from his throat. "I forgot; ye'd probably like that, wouldn't ye?"

My eyes sting with pending tears. I cannot even respond.

"Captain," someone says from the ropes.

"Load the guns!" Jack shouts. "To your stations!"

"No, Jack," I run after him, back to the helm. "We cannot fire at them. I think Anson has Isabella, and she'll be on that ship!"

He watches me for a moment. "We won't fire until she's on the _Pearl_."

I feel my stomach drop as the ship approaches us more and more every moment. Will Anson finally win? Not with Jack at my side, he won't. _We're still a team_, I remind myself. _Right?_ "And how do you presume we do that?" I ask him.

He opens his mouth to speak, but we are both caught off guard by Tara standing suddenly beside us. "No running this time?"

Jack looks from her to me. "The running comes later."

I try to ignore this comment. "How did he find us? I thought Loyal strayed him away," I say.

Elizabeth and Will join us at the helm, Hamlet no longer in Will's hands. They both have their swords at their belt, ready for anything. I wonder if Elizabeth can even use a weapon?

"What's going on?" she asks.

"Andie's past has come back to bite us in the ass _again_," Jack snaps.

I scowl at him. "And yours bloody hasn't? Remember this?" I demand, pulling down the collar of my shirt to reveal the twin scars that match his own. Ivory and that abandoned home. I was shot because I was re-living something Jack all ready had.

He narrows those passionate, amber eyes at me. "Which, once again, lead back to ye and Loyal," he reminds me. That's right; it did lead all back to me. Ivory taking revenge on my brother for killing her lover. All right, so I was wrong. But will I admit it? No, never.

"Well," Elizabeth begins. "Your past has come back to haunt us as well, Jack. Remember Barbossa?"

Jack inhales, his hands flexing as he turns away from her. His temper is about ready to burst. "Stay out of this, 'Lizabeth."

"You might as well start running now, Jack," I snap. "I think you're better at it than I am."

"Wait," Tara suddenly points out far into the water, out into the horizon. "Look." We all obey. It's another ship, catching up with Anson's. My brother. "It's Loyal," she says, smiling. "He's not going to let Anson get away with anything."

"I'm about to," Jack snaps.

"Excuse me?" I ask, more angry and hurt at this moment than feeling remorse for anything I've done. I came to apologize, I came to make things right with him, and he's going to just throw that away? After I forgave him for Kamella? I expected a little more compliance, I think, all though I don't know why.

Jack's eyes won't leave mine. He's debating with himself, and I'm silently begging him with my stare. _Please, Jack. Please. You're all I want. I don't care about Maxwell, about the curse. I want to be safe and happy. I want to be home. And that's here, with you. Whatever you are._

"Grab a weapon," he tells me. "And don't leave my sight."

"Jack," someone says, rushing towards us. It's Rodney. "What's going on?"

"Anson," I tell him. "He's come to collect his key."

"Key?" everyone asks all at once. Jack and Tara just look towards the approaching ships, so close now that we could swing a plank over to their deck.

I take a breath. "Me." That's when I move swiftly across the deck, pulling a sword from a crewman's belt.

"Jack Sparrow," a voice yells from across the way. Anson. "It's pleasure to see you once more." _Anson_. I look, no fear in my hazel eyes, just anger. Anger for what he's done to me, to Jack, to Loyal and Isabella. And most importantly, what he is planning to do.

"Wish I could say the same," Jack bites out.

But Anson's eyes are on me. "Hello there, Emery."

"What have you done with Isabella?" I demand from him.

"Isabella?" he says nonchalantly, "Oh, she's fine. Don't worry about her." Anson points to something across the deck of his ship, and I can see a struggling figure, bound and gagged, kept at bay by threatening men.

"Leave her out of this," I tell him, and I can feel Jack moving to my side. "She's done nothing."

Anson smiles that slow, malicious smile that always egged at my mind. He does not have happy thoughts going through his mind, not at all. "Exactly," he hisses. "But look at the two of you," he swings one hand towards Jack and I. "Still together, happy and true."

"Something like that," Jack replies confidently.

My ex-fiance raises an eyebrow, and I can hear Loyal and his crew yelling from a short distance. "Your brother is eager to get his wife back, safe and sound," he says.

"So am I," I reply.

"You know what you can do to make that happen? Swing on over here and we'll be merrily on our way."

"On yer way to where?" Will bites out.

"To the Fortunes. Athena's temple," Jack points out for everyone to know.

Anson laughs. "You know, I think you're quicker than a lot of people lead you on to be, Sparrow."

Jack shrugs. "I get that a lot."

"But you're still a fool," he explains. "You've not only come between my plans, but you've made it a lot harder on all of us. And for that, I will not allow you to forget so quickly."

Jack smiles proudly. "Believe me, mate," he says, leaning close into me, teasing him with the fact that he won the first battle. He stole me away, in Anson's eyes. Only, I went with Jack willingly, that much has been obvious. "It hasn't slipped my mind."

Anson's jaw and body language hardens. "Come, Emery. Be a dear and make this easier on all of us."

I raise my brows nonchalantly. "I think you're really just making it harder on yourself."

He laughs. "Then, make it easier on that contaminated felon of yours. Or," he says, turning his black, malign eyes towards Jack, who looks unaffected. He's heard all of the names before; they don't bother him now if they ever did then. "_Captain_ Sparrow, you can make it easier on Emery. Whichever works for me."

Jack looks at me, making me incredibly uncomfortable, for it seems to be more than that. I feel dirty from the look in his eyes; as though he is seeing right through me. "A part of me just wants to hand ye over to him," he says.

It's the pain inside from those exact words that causes my next few actions; I'm trying to protect myself with the anger I push forward at him. I don't want him to know how much those words make my insides bleed. "Let me just do it for you, then," I them him, and throw my sword down.

I give up. I'm defeated, for the first time in my life. Never will I forgive myself for what I am about to do.

"Andie," Elizabeth says. "You can't do this."

I look at her, no tears in my eyes. My face is stone, like the entire year I spent at home with my family, away from the man I love most. "Watch me."

I grab onto the rigging, my knuckles white, watching in slow motion as my older brother's ship approaches the _Black Pearl_ and the enemy. "Hand her over," I tell Anson.

"Jack," Rodney argues, "You can't allow her to do this."

He's smiling a wicked smile as he tells the men holding Isabella back to send her over. My brother's ship begins to slow adjacent to my ex-fiance's, Loyal plain in sight. His eyes move back and forth, in anger, towards myself and Anson. He knows all of this is my fault, I can see it on his face. After all, if it wasn't for me, he would be home, safe and sound, with the woman he loves so dearly.

A board is placed between the _Pearl_ and Anson's ship, _Senora Glotoneria_, as I like to imagine it's name, and I watch with stone eyes as Isabella is untied and she is shoved up onto the plank. Weak but simultaneously so strong, Isabella moves towards me, dirt, but not a scratch apparent on her white skin. "Please don't do this, Emery," she says to me. "It's not worth it."

"The look on my brother's face when he's with you again will no doubt be worth any of this," I tell her, aiding her onto the deck of my lover's ship.

"Andie, please," Rodney begs. Will and Elizabeth are standing beside him, the same hope in their eyes.

Jack's eyes, however, are dark, but I can almost swear I see a look of regret and debate in those admirable eyes. They meet my own and it takes everything for me to not burst into tears and apologies right there, begging for forgiveness. But I know the decision I need to make. I've never been one for groveling anyways. If I do not go with Anson now there will be a fight.

The cannons on Loyal's ships are loaded. They are ready. Loyal begins to give the signal, I can see his mouth begin to move… and I cannot believe the words that come out of my mouth. I scream for him not to fire.

I look back at Jack, just for a moment, before I am gone, swinging myself over the plank and over the side of Anson's ship. I hit the floor boards when I release the rigging from my hands, just almost barely making it on my feet. I land on my arse like I always seem to do.

The crew seems to pounce, grabbing my hands and tying me immediately. "Always having to make a scene, don't you Emery? You always did have to make an entrance," Anson hisses in my ear, grabbing me roughly and yanking me roughly to my feet. There's a knife at my throat and a pistol to my temple in threat if the two ships even dare fire back or cause any sort of trouble. I figured as much.

I look over at my brother's ship, seeing the confusion on his face, not sure whether to fire and fight or to let it be. He's got his wife back, after all. She's safe and sound on Jack's ship. There's nothing else he possibly needs, right? Well, possibly revenge. I'm not sure, however, whether it's me or Anson he really wants to fire back on.

"The trade is complete," Anson yells to Loyal. "I'm sure Jack Sparrow will be gracious enough to hand your wife over to you. I'm sorry it had to come to that, however. Don't blame me for your sister's mistakes." And then, as though I was weak, so much lower than him, he throws me at two member's of his crew. "Lock the whore in the brig."

I'm escorted below the deck, and I do not fight, parcially to the knife at my throat and to the fact that I have no will power to do so. I gave myself away, this was my choice. I'm shoved behind the quickly unlocked door and crash against the wall in one quick, meloncholy moment. I don't notice it at first, but after only a minute of rubbing my sore head and shoulder from the impact, I realize I am not alone. I look over to see a pair of glasses and a thin, familiar hand reaching for them.

"Chester?"

The figure turns over and it is him, fogged and confused as he attempts to sit up. There are scratches on his face and he struggles as I reach over and help him balance himself. He leans on me as though exhausted. "Andie?" he croaks.

"Chester, what… why… are you all right?" I'm not sure what exactly to ask him first.

"I was praying to the Gods he wouldn't find you. He's been dabbling with the black arts… had an inkling he would," Chester says, his brow cracked with a blackred.

I touch the wound with a gentle finger. "What has he done to you?"

"I haven't told him a thing, Andie, I swear it," my old watcher promises. "_The Ahoros_ have, however. Anson's going to sell you to them. They want that treasure something fierce."

I swallow, trying to keep down the lump in my throat. It tastes rancid, like I'm going to vomit. "Sell me?"

"For a part of Athena's treasure," Chester coughs, raising his scratched hand to adjust his glasses. "They wanted me to tell them how to open the temple," he tells me, flinching and hissing as my fingers graze his back.

I lean him over, away from me, and lift the back of his stained shirt. Just as I thought; straight, thin, bleeding marks appear all over his back. "They tortured you," I say softly, so sorry.

"Only a little," Chester says with that handsome smile, coughing and adjusting his position. "I'm sorry, Andie, about everything. I thought I was doing the right thing, separating you and Jack. I was so very wrong."

There is a moment of productive, thoughtful silence. "I don't think you were," I whisper, but I don't think he hears me.

"_Know that we all fall down  
Love till you hate, jump till you break  
Know that we all fall down  
If ever your will starts crashing down  
Whenever your will starts crashing down  
If ever your will starts crashing down  
That's when you find me."  
_"_**All Fall Down" -OneRepublic**_

* * *

I know, I know, it's been months since my last update. But hey, college has kept me so incredibly busy. My 3.57 GPA has made it all worth it though. I haven't given up on this story and I'm not going to, no matter how far and between my updates may become. Just to make up for it, however, I will be working this week to get the new chapter written and posted.

Smooches to you all.

Reviews would be oh so wonderful.


End file.
